


Want to Get Lost Together?

by GlamFolk



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dancing around each other, Everything's chill in the 7 kingdoms now, F/M, Post-War, awkward nerds, except these two, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-01-25 07:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlamFolk/pseuds/GlamFolk
Summary: Prompts Prompts PromptsComment if you'd like to submit one, otherwise I'm just going off a list!





	1. "and where do I go?"

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “and where do i go?”

Gendry had been avoiding his new wife.  
It had been a week since his wedding, and yet the prospect of being around his new wife only inspired anxiety. Sansa was pretty, educated, and highborn, and her manners carried a cool formality that always made him question himself in her presence. On the wedding night, seeing how she shook, he had cut his hand and dropped blood on the sheets. When she saw what he had done, she smiled at him and promptly turned to fall asleep on her side. He stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, maintaining a polite distance from the woman he had just tied himself to for life.  
He would have just spent that time in the forge. He had told Arya that he would have a new set of knives for her the next time she swung by Winterfell (wherever she was, whoever she was killing now). He thought back to before the wedding when Arya had unceremoniously let herself into the room he and Jon were dressing in for the ceremony.  
"I need new knives," she said, picking at her dress she had agreed to wear for her sister.  
"You're telling me this now?" he had asked as Jon handed him the newly sewn Baratheon cloak.  
"You're not nervous, are you? It's just Sansa," she hopped onto the trunk and looked at her cousin and soon to be brother-in-law. Gendry set his jaw and kept fussing with the ties on his doublet.  
"She's going to love you," Arya said, kicking her feet up and smiling. At twenty, she was still small and thin but managed to be quicker and faster than both him and Jon in fights. She gave Gendry's butt a hard, playful kick. "She said she likes your arse."  
Before Gendry could retort, someone outside the hall called for Arya.  
"See you outside, _brother_ ," she smiled at him before hopping off the trunk. She gave Jon a playful punch on the shoulder before sauntering out.  
It had been a quick, just like his ascension from bastard to the heir to Storm's End. He had thrown the cloak over her shoulders, and just like that, they were married. Arya threw petals over them as they walked together down the path back to the hall. Bran asked him all about his work as a blacksmith, promising to show him a very impressive Valariyan dagger some other time. Rickon, who only knew he was getting a new brother, eagerly tugged at Gendry's new finery, begging to play. Jon drank a bit too much and spent the rest of the night joking with him, making fun of the show nobles put on at weddings. Only Sansa sat with a silent smile, kindly speaking to everyone who came to their table and wished them the best. She drank and ate daintily, and smiled sweetly at him whenever he managed the courage to ask her a question. Of all his new family, Sansa was the most aloof. 

It went on like this for the next few months. Sansa would spend her days responding to letters, meeting with her counsel, and reading in the library. Whenever he came to their chambers, she would more often than not be asleep in a small bundle on the bed, and wake before him in the mornings. Queen of the North.

"Why don't you just  _talk_ to her?" Arya had asked him one of the days before she had left, and had insisted on checking the hunting traps with him. 

"That'll go over well. Can't barely think of what to talk to her about. Don't even know how she'd react. She's so... _polite._ " 

Arya rolled her eyes and bent down to release the rabbit from it's trap. 

"She's scared," she said, tossing the rabbit into their bag. 

"I haven't hurt her, Arya." he snapped, a bit too defensively. "I won't. Ever."

"She doesn't know that," Arya answered, slashing a passing tree with her knife. "She's smarter than you think, Gendry. She's watching you."

"When? In the six hours we sleep in the same bed?" 

"Maybe," his friend shrugged. "Just ask her something about herself."

Gendry never did. Whenever he caught Sansa in the same room, she always smiled and asked how he was. He tripped over his words the first few times, afraid of saying the wrong thing, like always. Eventually, he just gave a basic response. 

"I am fine, m'lady."

"I am glad, my lord." she would answer prettily. 

They kept the dance up. Arya had come and gone twice (" _honestly,_ will you two just stop? I've taken faces from corpses more talkative than the two of you together") and Jon had long since returned to his throne in King's Landing. Gendry filled his days in lessons, learning his letters and history of Storm's End. 

 _Some King I'll be. Barely know the bloody history, the people._  

Six months after he had gained a wife, his tutors agreed that it was time he visit Storm's End. Gendry wasn't sure what intimidated him more - going to a court full of people who expected him to be a leader, or the conversation he knew he had to have with his wife. 

A few nights before he was set to leave, he came to their chambers late. He had tried to steel himself for the talk he was about to instigate, but as he knocked on the door he felt the butterflies bat against his stomach again. 

The door swung open and Sansa's chambermaid - Alyson? - stood before him. 

"Oh! Good night, m'lord." she gave him a small curtsey. She couldn't have been any older than fifteen. Her big brown eyes were afraid to look into his. 

 _We're the same._ he wanted to tell her.  _I don't feel like I belong here, either._

"My lord?" Sansa came behind her maid, holding a folded linen. Peering over the shorter girl, Gendry saw an open trunk at the end of the bed, overflowing with fabrics. 

"What..." he pointed up to the trunk. Sansa turned her head to follow. 

"Oh! Alyson is helping me pack. I know I shouldn't have waited this long, it's been a busy few weeks," she smiled before touching Alyson's shoulder. "I can manage the rest, dear. Go get some sleep- I'll see you in a few months." She gave the younger woman a quick hug. Alyson curtsied to her lady and gave Gendry a quick nod before moving past him and out the chambers. Sansa turned and walked to the trunk, depositing the folded piece into it. 

"I had your things packed up, as well. They should already be down in the stables being loaded up for when we leave tomorrow morning," 

"I..." Gendry started. Sansa looked up at him, her long red hair falling over her shoulder. She looked at him expectantly. 

"I thought," Gendry walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "I thought you'd be staying here,"

Sansa's face fell just a bit, but her queenly composure never left. 

"Is that what you'd prefer, my lord?"

"I thought it'd be what you'd prefer," Gendry answered, realizing this was the longest conversation he and his wife had had in the past seven months. "I was actually going to..."

Sansa leaned against the end of their bed and looked waited for him to speak. She was wearing her blue dress, the one that always made him a little flushed.  _Gods, she's beautiful._

"I was going to tell you," he finally regained his grasp of language. He kept staring at the floor between them. "I was going to offer, more like...if you'd want...I could go to Storm's End and..."

"And?" Sansa asked, her formality wavering. 

"I could go, and stay. You wouldn't have to see me anymore," he finally finished. 

A hush fell over the room. Gendry couldn't bring himself to look up at his wife as they stood in the silence. He traced the stone of the floor with his eyes. 

_Please say something. Please._

When he looked up at Sansa, he saw that she had shut her eyes and clenched her teeth. When she exhaled, there was a quiver in her voice. 

"And where do I go?" she asked. 

"I mean...you could stay here. Without me bothering you," 

"Bothering me?" she repeated. 

"I mean," he ran his hand down the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling as if it had any answers. "I just thought..."

He hadn't intended to finish, thinking she would fill in the blanks for him. She remained silent, her mouth in a straight line.

_She has such pink lips._

"Do you regret marrying me?" she asked suddenly. Gendry's eyes snapped back up to her, not believing what he had just heard. 

" _What?"_

Sansa pushed off the bed and walked over to the fire, bending to pick up a poker. 

"We don't...speak." she said, pushing a log over. Sparks flew up, and Gendry feared her dress would catch fire. 

"I thought you didn't want to." he said, walking over and leaning against the fireplace, looking up at her. Sansa met his gaxe and dropped the poker on the floor before sighing. 

"I thought you didn't want to," she said. "I thought...Arya..."

"What? No!" Gendry practically barked. Seeing the questioning look in Sansa's eyes, he continued. "I mean, she's fantastic. But, it's not...no. She's like a little sister, annoying as one too, sometimes." Gendry thought back to the last raven he had recieved from her, asking him to add another knife to her order. 

"So you two," she began.

"No." Gendry answered quickly. "Never." 

Sansa let her head fall back to the fire, and a small smile formed on her face. Gendry felt the butterflies in his stomach beat wildly. 

"Do you want to go to Storm's End alone?" she asked, looking back up at him. 

Gendry held his breath, weighing his options. He could tell her yes, go away for months, and return to Winterfell to the same situation, the same quiet wife, the same tip-toing around. Or...

"No," he said finally. She smiled at him, and he caught himself smiling back. 

"I'll finish packing, then." She said, her cheeks getting a little redder under his gaze. She sauntered over to her trunk and began folding the outpouring fabric back onto itself. 

"Have you ever been there?" she asked.

"No," he answered. 

"Me neither," she said, closing the lid of her trunk and sitting on it. The contents protested, refusing to close enough for her to latch. 

"Let me," he said surprising himself. Sansa's eyes followed him as he paced over and took a set next to her. The added weight forced the lid down, and together they flipped the latches on each side. Sansa stood, and Gendry picked the handle from his side and lifted the trunk, depositing it by the door. When he turned, he saw Sansa's eyebrows were raised and a disbelieving smile had broken out on her face. 

"You're strong," she laughed. "I needed Alyson to help me get that out of storage  _empty_." 

Gendry felt himself blush under his wife's gaze. 

"I hope that's not...scary, or anything." he said, remembering Arya's advice. Sansa shook her head, her smile softening as she walked up to him. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him. 

"No," she said against him. Gendry felt her breath warm through his shirt. "I like it."

 

............

Hello! 

the lovely [WWactress96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WWactress96/pseuds/WWactress96) sent me a prompt list via tumblr, and I decided to take a bit of my day off to start this new project. It's fun!

I'm going to keep up with my others, as well. I'm not too sure if these will be one-shots or part of a continuous story, but if you have any prompts for chapter titles (like the phrases), please let me know! I love writing for this ship. 


	2. "I don't like the cold" (1/3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Wizgirl   
> "Gendry spends time in Vale with Sansa per Jon's request for him to protect his sister. And since Gendry doesn't have a first good impression of snow since fighting the undead maybe Sansa teases him and playfully hits with snowball. Fight ensues at some point they are rolling around having a good laugh and share a kiss starting off their romance"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!   
> Please forgive any mistakes I make plot wise - I don't watch the show so I'll probably forget a few things (book reader only - I know, I know, maybe one day I'll come around. Message if you want to talk about it, I always like talking TV vs book).

He hates the cold. 

Growing up by the shore, he's used to humid air and a hot sun. Up here, the clouds cover everything. Little flakes fall all the time and always seem to catch him in the eye. He can't remember the last time he went to bed with dry socks. Even now, walking up the long, long staircase to the castle's main entrance, he can't feel his toes. He turns to look at his companion.

"How are you managing?"

Pod shrugs his shoulders and readjusts the pack on his back. 

"Never bothered me," is all he says. 

Behind Pod, Brienne is sitting tall on her horse, keeping her eyes looking out, as if they were to be attacked from the skies. She's so worried all the time, always on alert should some threat materialize and come for Lady Sansa.

Gendry flicks his eyes over to the woman on the horse next to Brienne's. Her cloak hood is up, and her crystal blue eyes are trained on the gates. For a foolish moment, Gendry thinks that she's looking at him, before seeing a slight shift in her eye line as she meets his gaze. He feels his face turn red. She gives him a small smile before turning her eyes back up, watching the door. Gendry fixes his gaze back to the front. 

A snowflake catches him in the eye. 

 

.....

It's been a week since they've arrived in the Vale, and Gendry starts to feel like a glorified shadow. Well, more like the glorified shadow's sidekick. He had promised Jon he'd watch over Sansa, but with a woman like Brienne around he hardly knows what he could do to help. He saw the woman Bash a man's head in with the hilt of her sword before breaking another's neck. What would he do if suddenly a band of White Walkers barged through the door and made right for where Lady Sansa was talking to those over-fed Lords? Brienne had a full suit of armor. She kept a sword with her wherever she went. Right now, all he had on was a leather doublet and a small dagger. Even inside, he can't feel his toes.

He looks over at Lady Sansa, who is kindly laughing at something one of the men said, although he can't imagine it's very funny. He scans the man up and down, taking him in. Old. Fat. His beady eyes run down the Lady's body when the other man is speaking, calling her attention away. Gendry feels like something inside of him is clenching. Without warning, the lecherous man looks up and catches Gendry staring him down. Intimidated, he excuses himself from the other two, hastily making an exit. 

Huh. Maybe he can do something. 

.....

"Keep your shield up!" 

Gendry hears Brienne's order to late. A moment later, he's splayed on his back, gasping for air. His shield falls to his side, forgotten, as he looks up into the white grey abyss of the sky. 

"Get up!" he hears again. Groaning, he pushes himself up slightly, only to be knocked down by Pod. Spitting dirt from his mouth, he glares up at the other King's Landing boy, who seems to be trying to say "I didn't want to" through his twisted frown and puppy dog eyes. Gendry wipes his wrist across his cheek and pulls himself up, getting back the stance to face Pod. 

"You're not focusing," Brienne critques, her voice clipped with stern professionalism. Gendry wants to roll his eyes. 

_Swords. I'm not a swords person. If we could just-_

Pod brings his shield down on Gendry's again, but this time he catches the sword with his own. The  _CLINK_ rings out across the courtyard, and from the sides of his vision he can see a little fuzzy patch of red stand out from the black and grey. 

His mistake is turning to look. Lasy Sansa is standing there watching them, her cloak down and her hair falling over her shoulders. She's smiling. Gendry tries to smile back, but his charm is cut short by a stinging in his forearm. 

"Poderick!" Brienne cries out. Gendry drops his shield and looks at his wound. A long slash cut from his elbow to his wrist, dripping blood into the snow. 

"I didn't mean to, honest!" Pod cries, making to run up to Gendry. Before he can, though, Lady Sansa speaks. 

"There's a med room this way," she says. All three turn to look at her. She swallows and turns her eyes to Gendry. 

"If you'll follow me, I can help."

He nods and follows her out of the courtyard without another word to either of his sparring partners. 

She leads him to an old wooden door and pulls it open with a small, feminine grunt. Gendry smiles to himself. 

Once inside the room, she pulls down two jars, and begins unscrewing them. 

"You don't-" he starts before she looks up at him. Even in the low light, he can see how blue her eyes are. He shuts up. 

She pulls the lid off one of the jars and gestures for him to raise his arm. He does, gently, marveling how much smaller she is. She removes her gloves and places them on a small table, and gently, more gently than he's ever been touched, takes his elbow in her hand and dips her other two fingers into the jar. She begins to cover the wound. 

"Bloody hell!" he shouts. The sting was unexpected, and it feels like she's rubbing a combination of fire and salt into his gash. Realizing what he just said, he begins to stumble over his words. 

"I mean- Sorry, it just-"

"It stings," she smiles up at him, spreading more across his arm. "I know."

He hisses through his teeth as she finishes. Once convinced the slash is well covered, she begins to unravel the bandage from the other jar and begins to wrap his arm up so tightly and neatly Gendry wonders if she spent time training to be a healer. 

"You're good at this," he manages, watching as her small, quick hands wrap around his large arm. 

"I used to have to do this most every night," she said, catching the ends of the gauze and tying them. 

"To soldiers?" he asks, knowing he's pressing his boundaries. 

She shakes her head. 

"Myself,"

Gendry feels his mouth go dry and for a moment, he can't remember how to form his words. He stutters over a few nothing sounds before she saves him. 

"Would you like to go walk?" 

His eyebrows shoot up and he turns his attention back to the woman in front of him. 

"Er- what?" 

She points to a door at the end of the hallway in the outside corridor. Closing the door behind her, she gestures for him to follow her. He holds his arm up, as if he was instructed to keep it elevated, and follows behind her curiously. 

"Lady Sansa-" he says just as she opens the door. Before he can finish his thought, a gust of icy wind catches him in the face. Frozen to his bones, he clenches his fist.

"Ser Gendry?" she asks sweetly. He opens his eyes to see her standing in a white landscape of snow, her bright hair and eyes the only color in the world before him. For a moment, he forgets she's waiting for an answer. 

He pushes through and pulls the door closed behind him, walking out to the center of the courtyard where she's standing. 

"You said a walk?" he asks. 

 

....

It goes on like this for the next month. Every day during his training sessions with Brienne and Pod, Sansa shows up near the end, feigning interest in the fight until she and Gendry can take their afternoon walk. Brienne resents her for it, as Gendry becomes a much less attentive fighter under Sansa's watch, but keeps her mouth shut as he falls again and again, or leaves himself open for another attack. He knows he's getting better slowly, but the whole thing still seems pointless, and the cold doesn't help him 'loosen up', as Pod advised. He feels like he's no better at swinging swords than he was when he was still an apprentice, killing time playing pretend. 

He enjoys the walks with Lady Sansa, though. Their route is always the same, and they don't speak as much as he would like them to during. More than anything, it seems Lady Sansa just wants someone next to her while she spends time clearing her head. He steals glances at her while they walk, tracing her profile with his eyes, memorizing it. It is after a few days that she begins to say small things, catching him in conversation. She did ask about Arya once before, about his life in Flea Bottom and his meetings with Jon. He tries to answer them the best he can, foolishly trying to impress her by recalling the smallest details he can. 

She doesn't talk about herself. He doesn't ask. 

Today, however, she comes to the sparring practice early. Gendry sees her out of the corner of his eye just as he's taking the correct stance for his fifth round with Pod. For the next hour, swords clang in the cold air, and Gendry catches Sansa watching him every time he turns her direction. It doesn't take long for him to become distracted.

When he falls to the ground a third time, Brienne gives up. She calls Pod over to fight with her, and he hears their swords begin to clang beside him when he feels something brush his arm. 

"Would you like some help?"

He opens his eyes to see Lady Sansa holding her hand down to him. He takes it in his hand - so small, like a bird - and pushes himself up with the other, not wanting to pull her down of have him support his weight. 

"Pod seems to favor shield bashing," she offers out of nowhere as he dusts himself off beside her. He looks over to the two warriors. Pod tries to ram his shield against Brienne, but she's too quick. She turns out of his way and kicks his backside as he charges past her, sending him down onto his stomach. 

"Seems to," Gendry holds up an arm full of bruises for Sansa to inspect. She smiles and slightly jerks her head back towards the archway they usually walk through.

"I have something to show you," she says. 

Gendry nods, trying not to let on that his heart is beating faster and he feels the palms of his hands begin to sweat. He places the sword on the rack and leaves the shield by the bench. He raises his arm up, gesturing in front of them, as if to say "after you". 

For the first time during their daily walks, Sansa loops her arm through his, as if he were a proper noble. He tries to hide his nervousness as the warmth from her hand spreads up his bicep. He keeps his eyes forward, trying to think of something to say. 

Once again, she saves him. 

"It's just up ahead," she says, her voice getting a little higher with excitement. Gendry looks over to her, seeing her face flush pink in the cold. He wonders what he looks like. 

Sansa pulls him through an archway and breaks off, running to the center and turning to look at him as he stands frozen in the doorway. 

"The Godswood had a pile of snow fall from the roof," she says, pointing to a massive mound of snow that stands taller than her. She scoops up a handful from beside her, and forms it into a snowball before throwing it up at the wall. She turns back to him, a childish smile plastered on her face before seeing his expression. 

"What, what's wrong?" she asks, her voice suddenly filled with concern. 

"It's nothing," he says before stepping from his place and into the courtyard. A wind picks up and whips past the two of them, sending Sansa's hair flying and skirts ruffling. Gendry clenches his teeth, his muscles twitching from the cold. 

"...Are you alright?" she asks once the wind dies down. Gendry tries to relax his frame, but he's still too cold. 

"It's just..." he moves walking over to her and places his hand on the wall of snow in front of them. He has to admit it is impressive. "I don't like the cold." 

Sansa stays silent, thinking over what he says. 

"Don't like the cold?" she asks, with a hint of a smile in her tone. "Then why did you come here?" she giggles. 

"Because-" Gendry is about to tell her that he did it as a favor for Jon, but catches himself. She wouldn't be offended if he told her Jon had specifically asked him to watch over her, but it no longer seems to be the truthful answer. He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the urge to tell her that the reason he's been putting up with half frozen socks and a constant quest for warmth is-

and then he feels an erruption on his head. 

Knocked out of his inner thoughts, he looks up to see Sansa arching her arm towards him, much farther away than she had been. A second snowball catches him in the face. 

"Pfft-hey!" he says, only hearing her giggles as an answer. 

"We can't have you freezing in the middle of a battle," she laughs. She scoops up another handful of snow and flings it at him. He raises his arms defensively. 

"Sansa-" he laughs, forgetting formality. Another snowball catches him in the stomach. 

"What the matter, Ser?" she asks. Gendry looks up from his defensive position and sees her standing only a few paces before him. Her face is flushed, and she's smiling from ear to ear. Gendry is sure he's never seen anything more beautiful.

Suddenly the cold doesn't bite like it did. 

"Nothing the matter, Lady Stark," he says, casually pushing his hand into the wall of snow. Sansa's eyes flick down, and a nervous smile begins to take over her face. 

"What...What are you doing?" she begins to back up, picking the sides of her cloak up. 

"What do you mean?" he asks innocently, packing a large snowball in his hands. Sansa's eyes go a bit big upon seeing his creation. 

"Don't you dare," she says in a tone that's meant to be authoritative, but it undercut by her girlish smile. She backs up against the Godswood as he approaches. 

"What? Surely a city boy like me has problems with the cold, but a daughter of the North?" he raises the snowball up, and Sansa squeaks, running around the tree just in time for the snowball to miss her and shatter against the bark. A sharp laugh breaks out before she runs past him, taking a chunk of snow from the wall before turning to throw it at him. It catches him in the face. He wipes it off dramatically, and looks up to see Sansa huffing and crouched in anticipation. 

"Right," he says, shaking his head free of snow. He stalks towards her, and Sansa begins to crouch against the snow pile, giggling in anticipation. 

"No, no- stop!" she laughs when he bends down and scoops her up in his arms. Turning around, he stalks back to the Godswood, feeling Sansa's small hands cling to his shoulders. 

"What are you doing?" she asks when he quickly pivots at the base of the tree, turning back to look at the large pile of snow. 

"Well, I'm wondering, Lady Stark," he sayds, bending his knees slightly. Sansa, realizing what he was about to do, began to wiggle in his grasp. 

"Gendry,  _no-"_

"They say fire can't kill dragons, but do you think snow can kill direwolves?" before Sansa can answer, Gendry begins charging. She squeals and tucks her face into his chest just before he plows them into the pile, coating them in icy white crystals. He turns before they land, letting her smaller frame land on top of him in the pile. When it settles, Gendry feels as she begins to dig her way out, falling out the side in a very unladylike manner, cackling on her back. He follows suit, crawling out from the side and turning to see the damage they did to what was a neat, tall pile. 

"Again," Sansa says, hopping up. She pulls Gendry's arm, urging him to get up faster. 

"As the lady commands," he says, scooping her up again and turning to jump back in. Sansa's laugh echoes off the walls, and once they land in the powder again, she wiggles from his grasp, twisting to the side. She grabs and handful of snow to bring down on his head, but his hand catches her wrist. Losing grip, the snow falls onto his face, bathing him in frost. 

"Ha!" she laughs as she gently begins to push the snow off of him. Gendry lets her fuss over him, pretending to be dead once the majority of snow was off. 

"Oh come on," she shakes him. He keeps his eyes closed, thinking she'll shake him some more. Instead, he feels her warmth leave his side. When he opens another eye, he sees her forming a snow ball beside hime. 

"I don't think so," he says before catching her in his arms and rolling them farther into the pile. Sansa shrieks as he pulls her against him, and for a moment they forget where they are and begin to wrestle in the snow. Gendry tries to hold back, knowing how much bigger he is than the woman trying to shove snow down the back of his shirt, and eventually Sansa rolls on top of him, a large snowball in her right hand, ready to crash down on him. With a laugh, he raises his hands in surrender. 

"Okay! Okay! I yield," he says. Her face softens, but her arm remains raised. He looks up at the snowball, and then back at her. 

"Come now, you're not going to land the killing blow when a man just begged for mercy, are you?" he smiled up at her. 

Suddenly, Sansa dropped the snowball, letting it break against the snow by his head. Before Gendry could turn to look, she dropped her face down and caught his lips with hers, a cold hand coming up to hold his jaw. Gendry's eyes bugged open for a second in disbelief, before he saw his hands come to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Encouraged by his reaction, Sansa opened her mouth slightly, and ran her tongue across his bottom lip. Her body was warm pressed against him.  _Northerners._

Emboldened, he flipped their position and brought his hand to her hips, pulling her tighter against him before claiming her mouth again. She hummed against him, and brought her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Gendry kept his hand on her waist, and opened his mouth. 

_She's so warm. Her mouth is warm. She tastes like sunshine._

After a few more moments, their kissing became slower, less manic. Sansa broke apart and pressed a final kiss to his lips before letting her head fall back into the snow. Gendry opened his eyes slowly and looked down at the woman below him. His face was hot, his blood pumping furiously.

Then the reality of their situation hit him suddenly like an avalanche. 

"I- I'm so sorry," he stuttered, about to push off her. "I shouldn't have-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a puff of snow caught him across the cheek. Falling over, Sansa wiggled out from under him and pushed herself up, turning to look at him as he lay dumbfounded in the snow. A large smile spread across her face. 

"Alright," he said finally, running his hand across the stubble on his neck, pushing the snow away. "That's how it is?" he smiled. 

Sansa closed her lips but couldn't keep the smile from stretching. 

"Mmm-hmmm." she hummed. 

Gendry launched from his place in the snow and caught Sansa around the waist, hoisting her up. She squealed as he carried her over to the Godswood, pressing her back against the bark and trapping her between him and the tree. With one hand securing her in front of him, Gendry reached up his other hand and shook the nearest tree branch. Snow fell on top of their heads, falling into their laughing mouths. Gendry kept shaking the branch, bringing more and more snow down. 

"I yield! I yield!" Sansa laughed, brushing the snow from her eyes. Gendry stopped shaking the tree and looked down at the woman in front of him. She met his gaze and reached up to brush some snow from his hair. 

"Sorry," she said, brushing more snow from his shoulders. "You said you didn't like the cold," 

"When did I say that?" he asked.

Before she could answer, Gendry caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought his mouth to hers softly. Sansa hummed as she brought her hands to his face and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Gendry pushed her against the tree, holding her weight against him. She opened her mouth and bit his lip. 

Gendry decided then that maybe he had been wrong about the cold. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Babes in the snow.
> 
> Comment with any prompts for future chapters or if you just wanna chat! They make my day.


	3. Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For WizGirl
> 
> "A great prompt would be, Sansa and gendry reminiscing about their time together as a family, starts off with couple in Winterfell. Sansa pregnant with sixth child watching her children happy and healthy playing around. She and gendry recall their time together their wedding , first child, etc,"

"Mummy! Come on!"

Sansa pushed herself off the ground where only moments before she had been covered by three of her children's squirming bodies. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and started to pick up her pace, following after them.

"Cera, slow down!" she yelled out, rounding the corner into the courtyard. Before she could see where her children had run off to a flurry of small leaves flew at her face. Little giggles echoed off the stones as she blew one out of her mouth. 

"Got you, Mummy!" Cera's pointed finger jutted out dramatically, and her youngest daughter struck a childish, braggy pose. A thick, black curl fell in the center of her forehead, plastered to her skin from sweat and river water, and landing right between her two bright blue eyes. Beside her, the twins jumped around, pushing one another down into the piles. 

"You certainly did," Sansa said, reaching out and grabbing Cera's wrist. The girl squeaked excitedly as Sansa pulled her into a bear hug, dropping kisses on the eight-year old's head. When she looked up, the twins fighting had gone from playful to angry. They stared each other down, making tiny steps like they were trying to circle each other. Sansa leapt forward. 

"Boys - no, stop!" she caught their two little hands as they flew up, ready to strike the other. Immediately, they yanked their arms down, whining. 

"Mummmmy we were just playing." In unison, they tilted their heads up to plead for mercy with their big, watery eyes.

"What have you done to upset mother now?" Iris's voice barked from above. Sansa looked up to see her eldest daughter sitting on the stone wall leaning against the pillar. Her red dress fell elegantly in a smooth arch with one bare foot poking out. She closed the book and leaned down a little further to see her brothers. 

"Nothing!" The yelped. Sansa let their hands go and turned her attention upward. 

"Please be careful, darling." she pointed at her daughter's relaxed pose. "I don't want you to fall."

"Iris!!" Cera bounced by her mother's side, looking up at her sister. "Can we shoot arrows later? You promised last night you'd take me!"

"When I finish this," Iris held her book up. Cera nodded happily, and went to trot up the stairs. 

"No- Cera! I don't get anything done when you sit with me," Iris snapped. Cera ignored her and climbed behind her sister, little fingers running up to braid Iris's long red hair.

"I just want to practice," she said innocently, pretending to pin her small braid against her sister's head. 

" _Please_ get down from there," Sansa begged. 

"Listen to your mother," Sansa heard her husband call from behind her. Before she could turn around, two little fast bodies zoomed past her, curls bouncing as they ran to jump into their father's arms. 

Sansa turned just in time to see Gendry bring the two boys onto his shoulders and spin them around. From behind him, Heath walked up carrying a small basket, ducking just in time to miss the twins' gangly limbs. At twelve, he already looked so much like her father, it sometimes made her cry. Tall for his age (he wasn't all Stark, after all), he bent down to kiss his mother's temple. 

"Hey Mum," he said before turning to call up to his sisters, "We found Summer berries," he lifted the basket up and shook it. From above, Sansa heard the scuffling of determined bare feet pushing off the rail and running towards the stairs. 

"Put us down! Put us down!" the twins yelled. Carefully, Gendry let the boys down, and they ran to their brother's side, little grubby hands reaching up.

"Those are to  _share,_ " Gendry said, coming up behind Sansa. Sansa smiled to herself.

"We  _will._ " Cera said as she descended the stairs, jumping from the last step and onto the green grass. Iris followed quickly behind, book tucked under her arm. Heath held the basket above his head, leading the heard of sugar-starved children around the corner of the small courtyard they were in. 

"Thanks not much of a welcome back for a beloved father who's been gone for two days, is it?" Gendry asked, looping a satchel from off his shoulder and dropping it to the ground. Sansa giggled and turned to bring her hands to his face, pulling him down for a kiss. She felt his hands hold her waist,so gently, like he had the first time, like he still did after all these years, and smiled as she pulled away. 

"Welcome home," she said. Gendry smiled and leaned in for another kiss, before dropping to his knees and pulling the satchel into his lap. 

"I made sure to save you some," he said, pulling a canvas bag out. Sansa sat down next to him, taking the bag and untying the string. Inside were the  bright, plump purple berries. 

"My cherished provider," she said, taking one between her fingers and popping it into her mouth. She held the bag out for her husband. 

"No, you should," he said, pointing to her waist. Sansa rolled her eyes. 

"He's fine," she said, bringing her hand to her middle. Her bump hadn't begun to grow substantially yet. Not even the children knew. 

Gendry pushed her hand back. "Really. I'm fine. I'll pry some out of one of our little demon's fists later," she smiled up at her before reaching to put his hand on her knee. "I missed you,"

Sansa blushed, laying her free hand on Gendry's. "I missed you too," 

His eyes fell to her middle, and a worried look came over his face. 

"Is everything all right? You're so skinny." He ran a hand over her waist. Sansa caught it. 

"You always get like this when I' with child," she said. 

"I don't understand,"

"Worried! Always fretting!" she laughed. "I've done this five times before. Two in one go, last time. I'm going to be okay."

Gendry pushed himself forward, laying his head on her thigh and sighing. Sansa dropped a hand down and began to run her fingers through his hair. Suddenly, the children burst past, laughing and shouting as Cera ran ahead of them, her mouth stained with berry juice and the basket held up in her hands. Sansa watched and they ran down the rest of the hill, Cera racing to the path to the beach. 

"SHARE!" Sansa yelled from her position. Her husband laughed against her. 

"I love when you use your 'serious mother' voice," he said, nuzzling her thigh. Sansa reached into the bag and brought a berry to his lips.

"Eat it. You know they're not coming back with anymore," reluctantly, he opened his mouth. Sansa smiled smugly to herself.

Sansa laid back and looked up at the leaves shaking above them. Gendry had needed to come to the Stormlands for the Summer, and, as per usual, Sansa refused to stay behind. "You know you need me," she'd tease him, as he often came to her to discuss possible reforms and politics. The truth was she didn't like an empty bed. 

"Do you remember our wedding night?" she asked out of the blue. Gendry groaned and turned his head into her thigh, hiding his face. 

"I was terrible," he muffled. Sansa laughed and rolled him off. 

"No you weren't! You were sweet. And nervous," she said. "I think I had to take off my shift and pull you to the bed before your hands stopped shaking."

Gendry turned back and smiled at her smugly. 

"You just couldn't wait, eh?" he smiled. Sansa rolled her eyes. 

"Of course not. I was nineteen, and I had just gotten married to a handsome man. Who did just fine that first time, by the way." 

"Your subjects for study are woefully too small, darling. By the numbers, I will always be the best and worst you've ever had."

"You're right," she nodded solemnly. "I should have taken those lessons at the brothel. Instead of a timid maiden you would've had a vixen."

Gendry nudged her. "We figured it out."

"Practice," she said. 

"Lots and lots of practice,"Gendry smiled up at her and pushed her down slowly, crawling atop her like a cat.

"We are very good at it, aren't we?" Sansa laughed, letting her back fall onto the grass.

"The best," he said before dropping his mouth down. Just as their kiss deepened, a chorus of noisy, disgusted children came from their left. They turned their heads to see all four, stained with berry juice and grass, foliage poking out from their hair. 

"Oh quiet," Gendry scoffed. "How do you think you were all made?" 

"Blegh," Iris said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. 

 _"_ Quiet miss," Sansa pointed up to her. "In a few years all you'll want is a man to be as  _attentive_ as your father is to me,"

"Ew! Ew!!" Iris squirmed, running past her parents. The two laughed as the rest of the children followed their older sister, chattering about how disgusted they were to see their parents be "mushy", as Cera put it. 

Gendry turned back to Sansa and pushed himself off her. 

"I didn't hurt..." he gestured to her stomach. 

"By the Gods, Gendry," she said. "Did you hurt Heath any of the  _thousands_ of times we 'practiced' throughout me carrying him?"

Gendry bit his lip. "No,"

"Did you hurt Iris when we 'practiced' in Winterfell's forge?"

Gendry began to turn a bit red. 

"Even  _I_ thought we may have hurt Cera after that time with the rope, but she's fine. She's our fastest child!" she joked. 

"I can't help it," he said, covering his face. "It's primal. I swear by the Gods I want you more and more with each child. It's only natural." 

"The twins were fine, and this one," she lay a hand on her stomach. "Is going to be just fine too," 

Gendry looked up at her and smiled. He reached up and touched her cheek. Sansa turned and kissed his palm. 

"I don't believe you," he said. Sansa placed her hand over his and smiled. Gendry pushed himself up, bringing his face closer to hers. 

"I think we should test it."

"Oh? What do you propose?" she smiled. 

Gendry's eyes flicked down to her lips. 

"Practice,"

His lips were warm. Sansa opened her mouth slightly, which proved to be all the encouragement Gendry needed. He pulled her into his lap, pushing his tongue gently against hers.

"Honestly? It's a CASTLE," they broke apart and saw Iris hanging over her perch, the berry basket in her extended arm as her siblings reached for it. "There are DOZENS of rooms. Can't you two find one?"

 


	4. Romantic Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Steph!

Sansa woke up on her 30th name day with two pairs of elbows cutting into her side.

"Hmmpf," she wiggled up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. On either side of her lay a sleeping, pointy child. Heath, barely five, had his dark hair flared out on her pillow, his mouth hanging open and drooling on the linen. Iris, three years old and tiny, lay on her opposite side. She had slept with her knees tucked under her chin, her bony little back jutting into her mother's side, elbows poised to poke her lower back or the side of her breast. Sansa shifted up a little more and looked down toward her feet at the bassinette. She could just see Cera's massive curls sticking out against the white pillow.

Carefully, she peeled herself out between her children. Nothing could wake them when they were sleeping, but her children had gotten into the habit of waking up when she most wanted them to stay asleep.  Once she reached the end of the bed and was sure neither had stirred, she took her robe from the pile she had left it on the floor and carefully opened the door to the hallway.

It was barely morning, but she could see the smoke already pumping slowly out from the forge. Picking up her pace a bit, Sansa grasped the ends of her robe and rounded the corner to the stairs. No one would be up yet, she thought, justifying her immodest dress. She turned again at the foot of the stairs, passing through an archway and into the courtyard. 

Small slivers of light cut yellow lines against the stone. Inside, she heard the sounds of hurried movement and heard her husband curse under his breath. Reaching the for the bottom of the oilcloth that served as the forge's fourth wall. Once over her head, she looked up and her smile dropped. 

Her husband stood in a sweat-streaked tunic in front of his workbench, his hands extended out as if trying to grasp the shoulders of the half-naked woman in front of him. Both had frozen in their positions, eyes fixed on where Sansa had entered. Once she registered what was happening, she only had more questions. Her maid Alyson stood in front of her husband, naked from the waist up with her curly brown hair bouncing against her shoulders. Her face was red and flushed. Sansa's eyes fell unconsciously to the girl's breasts, which were covered in evidence of many small bites and kisses. 

Sansa's eyes flicked back to her husband. 

"I can explain this," he said. 

Sansa blinked her eyes a few times, disbelieving the scene before her. 

"What the  _bloody **fuck**  _are you doing?" she barked. Gendry dropped his arms as Alyson covered herself, and began to cry. 

"Sansa-" Gendry moved to stand. Sansa reached her hand out and grabbed the hammer from the bench. Gendry stopped and raised his hands. 

"What are you doing?"

"I....I don't know!" Sansa held the hammer up and out. She wasn't about to hit him, but something about having a weapon made her feel like everyone would be more willing to comply with orders. "What are  _you_ doing?"

Before Gendry could answer, a blonde head popped up from behind his work bench. Sansa's eyes flicked over, drawn by the movement. Gendry looked over his shoulder. 

"You bastard!" Alyson yelped, lunging over the work bench and grabbing at the man's hair. Sansa realized that the naked blonde man desperately trying to scramble away from her impressively confrontational handmaid was Jonahs, Gendry's older apprentice who he gave lessons to in the mornings before politics called him away. Jonahs was about Bran's age and was always joking when Sansa spoke to him. She had noticed her maids bright red cheeks whenever she returned with a message from the forge.

From her spot on top of the bench, Alyson balanced herself on her knees and leaned out to grab a fist full of his hair, yanking him back to seated position. He flopped down ungracefully, his legs still caught in his trousers round his ankles. Sansa looked quickly away from the crux of his thighs, closing her eyes and willing the image of Jonah's erect member away.

"You  _said_ no one would be in here this early! Now look what you did!" Alyson scolded. Jonahs brought his hand up, trying to push away Alyson's hand. 

"I'm  _sorry,_ love! He canceled the lesson today, I didn't think he'd be in here!"

"What the hell is going on?" Sansa remembered she had the hammer, and raised it while she asked, grabbing everyone's attention just like she thought. 

"I came in to work on something," Gendry's gaze cast across to the quarrelling couple. "And these two - hey!" he rushed behind Alyson and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back. In her hand, Alyson had grabbed a rock and was still swinging her hand wildly out at Jonahs, who now freed from her grasp was hurriedly pulling on his pants. Gendry deposited her and held his hand out for the rock. Like a pouting child, Alyson placed it in his outstretched hand. Gendry reached below the bench and pulled some canvas out, handing it to her. 

"Why don't you tell my wife what happened," he sternly told her. Alyson wrapped the canvas around her shoulders and looked at her feet like she was about to cry. 

"We were on the bench when King Gendry walked in," she admitted. "I'm so sorry, Your Grace! We were being stupid! Martha slept in my room last night and Jonahs couldn't get into the loft in the stables and...I'm sorry! I beg all your pardons!"

Sansa's eyebrows shot up. 

"You've been fucking in the hayloft?" she asked, forgetting herself. 

Alyson nodded. 

"This is my fault," Jonahs said. "If anyone should be let go, it's me. Alyson wasn't to blame. I'm sorry, Your Grace, please don't punish her," 

Sansa left out a heaving sigh and brought her fingers to her forehead. 

"No one is getting let go, Jonahs," she said. Alyson let out a shudder of relief. "But my children play in the hayloft. I don't mind," she waved her fingers between the couple. "This. At all. But find somewhere with four walls and lock to do it, please." 

Alyson gave a quick nod. Jonahs reached out for her hand, smiling. Alyson yanked it away. 

"No," she hissed at him. "Too soon," she turned her attention back to Sansa, her wide eyes ready for an order. Sansa tried to fight a smile from breaking out as Alyson stood determined, ignoring her lover's fallen face.

"Now...go inside," a small bit of laughter cracked from her last word. Alyson nodded and hurried out. Jonahs, reaching for his shirt on the floor quickly followed. 

Left alone, Gendry turned to his wife. 

"She was ready to kill him. I came in and she was chasing him round the table. Had to hold her back to try and get the story when you walked in," he looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry,"

Sansa dropped the hammer. 

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, just scared me is all," she said, bringing her hands to his waist. Gendry pulled her closer.

"I don't want anyone but you, you know that." he said. Sansa nodded. He pulled back. 

"I mean it. I wouldn't do that to you, Sansa. It's cruel, and it's a disgusting flaw," 

They never spoke of his father, but Sansa always knew Gendry's feelings towards the man. 

"Alright," she said softly. "I believe you,"

Gendry's face softened, and Sansa leaned in and kissed him. 

"You're up early," he said, kissing her forehead. "Thought you liked sleeping late on your name day,"

"Our children took over the bed," she said, letting her head fall on his shoulder. "And you weren't there,"

"Aye," he said, reaching back behind him. "Before I interrupted, I was coming to work on this," he held out the bracelet he had made for her after Heath was born. Two small charms dangled off of the chain, small coins with a wolf etched on one side and the water symbol on the other. The date of Heath and Iris's name days read under their respective charms. 

"I made one for Cera," he said, holding out the unattached charm in his palm. Sansa took the charm between her forefinger and thumb and brought it to her eyes.

He always made each one a little different, and in this one, he had filled in the wolf's fur with black. Sansa smiled and pressed a kiss on his neck. 

"I love it, thank you," she said. Gendry took the bracelet and charm and pressed off from his place, turning to take a tool from the table to attach the new charm. 

"Nice one, by the way," Gendry said, threading the wire through the charm's loop. "About the children. They're scared shitless of the loft,"

Sansa shrugged and hopped up to sit on the workbench. She looked down and watched her husbands small, precise movements. 

"Do you think they used our blanket?" Sansa asked. Gendry made a face immediately. Sansa made a note that she should take another one up to the loft when they got a break later. "I don't know how they couldn't have. I used to get splinters on my knees," she ran her hand over her thigh, remembering the awkward pain of climbing down the ladder. 

"Well," he said, catching her wrist to loop the now finished bracelet on. "We do have this old favorite," he dropped his hands to her sides and patted the workbench. Sansa smiled and looked over his shoulder to the breezing flaps. 

"Can't say I blame them," she said, turning her attention back to her husband. "It's an impressively sturdy table," she smiled and bit her lip. "We've got time. You think anyone will come in?"

Slowly, he sunk to his knees and pushed her robe up, until his face was covered by the hem of her shift. 

"Let em," he said. 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It had happened so fast.

She had asked him to escort her back to her quarters, she she had every night for the past week since Arya had left with Jon to go figh at the wall. Gendry had noticed how Sansa had fidgeted more during meetings with Brienne and Bran, and how even the smallest sounds seemed to scare her when she thought no one was looking at her. When they arrived he first night, she thanked him for keeping her safe.

Tonight, however, she didn't say anything when she pushed the door open. Instead, she turned around to look at him, holding the door as if she was waiting for him to walk in. When she saw the confusion on his face, she rolled her eyes at him and walked out of his view. He stood there for a moment, wondering what he was meant to do. Anyone else and he would have taken the hint, but no one had ever made him as nervous as her. He couldn't do something so rash and then have his instincts be wrong.

His insecurity wouldn't let him believe that a high born lady could really be the one sending him sweet smiles whenever their eyes met. Or asking him to take a daily walk with her to go over "strategies" but really end up talking about everything else. Or touching his arm gently after he tried sparring with Arya, ending up with a split lip. Sansa had made him sit on the bench as she applied one of Sam's salves to it. She had even made him hold a snow-pack to it afterwards.

Slowly, he followed her in and shut the door behind him. When he turned, he saw Sansa shimmying out of her dress. Gendry turned away, as if he had seen something he shouldn't have.

"I-what?" He said, keeping his eyes trained up at the ceiling. From his right, he heard another small shuffling sound of fabric running off skin.

"It's what you think it is," she said. "You can look,"

Still not trusting that this wasn't an elaborate prank, he barely turned his head to look at her. She had pulled her hair down, and was standing in front of him in a almost im practically thin shift.

"This is," Gendry dropped his head, blushing as he gazed at his feet.

This isn't real. This isn't real. The Queen of the North is not inviting me into her bed before I leave to fight like some shitty tavern ballad.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly. Her tone had shifted, betraying her previously cool demeanor. She bent forward to cover herself, standing back up with the dress against her body. "This was stupid. I'm stupid. I made you uncomfortable, and that was the last thing I want to do-"

As she was ranting, Gendry stepped forward and caught her wrist. She suddenly stopped talking and flailing her arm. Slowly she relaxed her biceps, dropping the dress down as he hands came to her sides. She felt a blush creep on when she felt his fingers creep down her palm to tease against hers. She looked up and met his gaze.

"Did you not know?" She asked softly. 

Gendry shrugged.

"Thought it was in my head."

He squeezed her hand a bit and smiled down at her.

"Do you think this is in your head?" She asked in a slightly deeper tone. Before Gendry could comprehend what what happening, he felt a pair of warm - how can the be this warm in this bloody cold? - lips against his. Sansa's free hand came to cradle his jaw, and her mouth opened slightly against his.

When he felt she was about to pull away, he grabbed her - he worried later almost too hard- around the waist, pulling her back. Encouraged, she looped her wrists behind his neck, craning up on her tippy toes to kiss him deeper.Without warning, Gendry bent down and lifted her against him, his hands holding the back of her thighs as she straddled his hips. In a matter of seconds, Sansa felt the cold stone press against her bare shoulders. Gendry pulled away.

"Its not in my head," he said. His eyes fell on her lips, down to her chin, and he leaned in to press kisses along her jaw, down the column of her neck.

The first time was against the wall. The second and third time they had managed to make it to the bed. Now, as they lay on their backs side by side, naked on top of the furs, the cold air tingling against their overheated, sweating bodies, Sansa broke the near two hour silence (of real conversation, anyway)

"You have to come back," she said, looking up at the ceiling. Gendry turned his head to look at her. 

"Is that an order?"

Sansa smiled and turned on her side to face him.

"A request."

Gendey smiled, turning into his arm to hide his face a bit like an embarrassed school boy. Sansa scooted over and nestled against him, letting her face fall on the sweaty mess of his chest hair. Gendry turned his head to inhale the scent of her, pulling him closer to him.

"I'll come back," he said quietly. Sansa didn't react. 

"What?" He asked,rolling them over so he hovered over her. She looked away, trying to conceal a smile.

"You'd think I'd ever give this up?" He asked, dropping his hand between then to touch her between her legs. Sansa let her head fall back, arching her spine slightly. 

"Words are pretty, Ser Waters." She said. "I prefer actions when proving loyalty."

He took the hint, and was happy to oblige. 


	6. Swan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizgirl’s got some fun prompts && I’m grateful af
> 
> AU: Gendry is the legitimate son of Cersei and Robert. The others...not so much.   
> Gendry and Sansa have been promised since they were kids even though they hated each other. Swan Princess kind of deal.

They first met when he was eight and she was six. 

His mother had dressed him up after a nearly hour long bath scrubbing every part of his body that was usually covered in dirt. Cersei bent down and wiped a smudge from Gendry’s brow. 

“Mum,” he groaned, pulling away. 

“You have to look your best for their arrival,” she said. The boy sighed and turned to look out the window, where his three golden haired siblings wrestled in the courtyard below. 

“How come they’re not all dressed up?” He asked. Cersei reaches down and took her sons hand, leading him out from her chambers and into the hallway. 

“Because they’re not meeting their betrothed,” Cersei answered. Outside a horn sounded, and his mother began to pick up their pace. 

“Come, that’ll be them.”

The two raced down the stairs and into the main hall, catching the door to the front gate just it began to rise. They quickly took their sides next to Robert, who’s ruddy face was smiling as he saw the slow reveal of his old friend sitting a top a horse. In front of him, a small girl with bright red hair sat, her purple northern dress standing in stark contrast. 

“Ned!” Robert called once the man and the girl had rode through. Sansa’s brother Robb came from behind on his own horse, looking uncharacteristically  confident for a boy of ten years. Bed slid off the horse and held his arms open for his daughter, who daintily climbed into his arms. On the groung, she finally turned to look at Gendry. The two stared at each other as intro suction’s were made.

“Sansa, what do you say?” Ned asked from above, breaking the intense silence between them. Sansa took a step forward and extended her this arm, her hand hanging limp for Gendry to kiss.

”It is very good to meet you my lord,” she said in a clipped, rehearsed tone. Gendry stood frozen until a sharp pinch from his mother sent him forward. Reluctantly, he bent down to kiss her knuckles, immediately recoiling once the deed was done. 

“Young love,” Robert joked. He clasped his friend around the shoulder and turned to lead him inside, leaving his wife and the three children in the courtyard. From behind them, Cersei heard Tommen’s shrill cry of pain, follows by a long wail. 

“Oh dear,” she said, picking up her skirts and running towards the noise. Even Robb has wandered off after his father, leaving the two alone. 

Sansa opened her mouth to speak before Gendry beat her to it.

”I’ve got plans this summer and I can’t have some girl bothering me,” he said sharply, crossing his arms. The smith had agreed to teach him how to forge blades, and his mother had finally relented. If Sansa was hanging around, his mother would probably call off his lessons so he could entertain her.

Sansa’s face contorted in confusion.

”I’ll try to be a bother my lord,” she said.

”Good.” Gendry huffed. The two stop there for a moment after, not sure what to do next. 

 

Sansa hated the first summer there. Gendry was always running away from her and she found herself spending most of her time with Myrcella. Near the middle of the summer,Gendry has been flicking food at her from across the table. When a bit landed on her face, splattering gravy on her nose, she picked up the butter knife between them and chased him outside, tackling him and beating her fists against him until Robb had to pull her off. 

When he came to Winterfell two years later, Sansa hid in her closet for hours trying to avoid being made to go see him. Their parents had made them write stupid pointless letters to eachother in the interim between visits, but they were little more the regurgitated polite language that their mothers told them to write down. The result were mountains of correspondence that the two writers both mutually understood to be all for show. Sansa had even used some of his letters to start a few fires in her pit. 

The desire for avoidance seemed to be mutual. Gendry spent most of the summer following Jon, Robb, and Theon around like a puppy. Even Arya, all five years of her, was taken into the group. When Sansa tried to join them on their outings, however, the older boys would run away as fast as they could, telling Gendry and Arya to follow them. Sansa gave chase a few times, but after she had fallen down the ditch and scraped up her legs, they had all gotten in trouble. Sansa stopped trying to join in after that. 

When she was nine, her father brought nearly everyone save her mother Bran down south. Much like the summer before, Theon, Jon, and Robb grouped back up with their friend, bringing Arya along sometimes if they felt like it. However, Robb and Jon tried to make more of an effort to include their older sister. That summer they took a boat to one of the smaller islands off the coast, just the six of them, and spent the day chasing each other in the sea water. Every one thought Sansa would complain about her dress getting messy, but she surprised them all when she ran through the surf, the hem of her dress soaked with salt and sand, laughing as they chased down flicks of seagulls and tackled each other in the sand dunes. They were scolded for getting so messy and sunburnt when they returned, but they would visit the island almost once a week for the rest of the summer.

They next summer, when Gendry came to Winterfell, something about him was different. He was moodier, like her brothers and Theon had become. He was short with Sansa whenever she was around him in the group. Annoyed, she began to snip back. For the rest of the time he was there, they couldn’t go five minutes in each other’s company without falling into a pointless argument. Nothing was safe - the way Gendry chewed food, the way Sansa laughed, the merits of lemon tarts versus sweet cinnamon bread. Any excuse they had to fight, they fought. 

The next summer they both thankfully remained home, as a gang of bandits had descended upon he Kingsroad, making it unsafe to travel for at least four months. Sansa put up with her siblings bickering, claiming summer wasn’t the same without their friend. Sansa spent most of her twelfth summer in the library, sick of hearing everyone bemoan the fact the prince wasn’t there. 

When they went to Kings Landing the next year, Gendry had gotten much taller. His face was more square, and his arms had gotten more defined from his work in the forge. Sansa grew angry at how he made her stomach flip when they were in the same room. In truth she almost started bickering with him more just to have an excuse to talk to him, but always left his company fuming. Not that she saw much of him that summer, anyway- he had convinced his mother to let him take on a full apprenticeship with the royal smith. When he was sparring with the boys in the courtyard, he was in the forge sweating and getting covered in soot. Sansa had watched him sometimes from a small perch by her room’s window. Arya has caught her once and she looked down to where her betrothed had take off his shirt to work. 

“Why are you staring at him?” Arya asked. Sansa jumped and swiveled her head to look at her sister.

”I’m not,” she said, feeling her face grow hot. Sansa pushed past her and into the hallway, deciding she was going to get some fresh air. 

Outside, she found Jon, Robb, and Theon sparring. Robb was set to be married in three weeks to the Westering girl, and he had wanted to spend one last “youthful summer”, as he called it, with his friends and family. Jon had begun working with the Night’s Watch to better relations between the Freefolk and their southern neighbors, and Theon was set to move back to Winterfell with Robb working as the captain of his kingsguard. Sansa suddenly felt saddened by how quickly her time with them had flown by. 

“I want to go to the island,” she said. The men froze, holding their weapons in the air. They exchanged glances. 

To her surprise, Robb nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go,” he smile. Without any ushering, Sansa turned on her heel and walked to the forge. 

Gendry was holding up some impossibly heavy hammer, inspecting it in the bright sun. Taking a deep breath, Sansa approached him. 

“We’re going to the island,” she said nonchalantly. Gendry turned his face to her, gently putting the hammer down.

”Who’s ‘we’?”

Sansa purses her lips. Why did he need to know who was going to the island before he agreed? Was it so terrible being in her presence, the person he was going to marry, that he wouldn’t just agree?

”Who do you think?” She said a little coldly. Gendry nodded and turned his attention back to the hammer. 

“Just want to make sure Joffrey’s not coming,” he said. 

They arrived at the island just after noon. Immediately the boys yanked off their tunics and jumped in the water, whooping and hollering. Bran, who had come along this summer, followed suit. Sansa tried to stop Arya, who was still ten and boxy, not to take her shirt off, but she stuck her tongue out at her sister and jumped in. Standing on the shore alone while everyone frolicked, Sansa stepped side to side nervously. Looking over her shoulder to the distant King’s Landing, she took a breath and began to peel off her summer dressed. Before she lost her nerve, she sprinted into the water in her shift, diving in head first. When her head popped up from the surface, six surprised heads looked back at her.

”What?” She asked. With a giggle she sent a splash towards Robb, who had Arya sitting on his shoulders. The group soon fell into a water fight, dunking each other’s heads under water. 

Sansa was happy that she had only packed her thick shifts. Despite being white fabric, the layers prevented anything from being seen. She saw Gendry looking at her briefly after she had thrown Arya into the water from the boat. When she met his gaze, he quickly looked away and swam to wear Theon and Robb were diving down to recover bits of dead coral. 

They stayed out well past dark, chasing down the fluorescent little orbs that appeared in the sand. Sansa remembers Gendry suddenly standing next to her, staring at the same small flecks of blue burying under their toes.

”When the river water meets the sea, these little creatures show up in the sand,” he said. Sansa nodded, looking down between them mesmerized. 

When they piled back onto the boat, they all mentally prepared themselves for getting scolded. They had uncomfortably pulled their itchy, salt covered clothes back on, each formulating how they could each manage a bath. When they arrived back at the castle, they were sent to their rooms without supper, and left to sleep with the salt water still clinging uncomfortably to their skin. 

That night, Sansa awoke to bickering outside of her room. When she peeked her head out, she saw Gendry and his younger brother- the one her age- fighting. Suddenly, Joffrey lunges forward and scratched Gendry across the face, leaving three red lines down his cheek. Before Gendry could retaliate, Joffrey took off running. He put a hand to his face and pulled it back, inspecting the amount of blood.

”Is everything okay?” Sansa asked softly. Gendry’s Head perked up, and Sansa could see how glassy his eyes were.

”Mind your own damn business,” he said gruffly, before walking down the hallway towards the door. 

“Excuse me?” She yelped after him. 

“Leave me alone, Sansa!” He yelled back, pushing the door open. Sansa stood in her doorway, shocked at his behavior. Slowly, she walked back inside, closed the door, and laid back down. 

They left for Winterfell the next day. She had coldly shook Gendry’s hand goodbye before walking up to the front of the wagon to wait as the boys gave their bittersweet goodbyes. Keeping her head up and forward, she didn’t hear as someone approached her side. 

“Sansa,” Gendry said. She turned to look down at him. In his hand he held out a small box. 

“I don’t want it,” she snapped. Gendry frowned, and pushed off from where he had been leaning. With a little more force than necessary, he placed he box on the floor by her feet, and turned to walk away without a word.

When they made it back to Winterfell, her father made sure she took it inside. Once alone in the room she shared with Arya, she opened the little box.

He had mounted one of the dead coral pieces he had found that day they had gone to the island. On the piece of parchment tucked in at the bottom, he had scrawled one word.

sorry.

 

they wouldn’t see each other again until she was eighteen. The situation at the Wall had worsened and all available bodies were needed to fight he oncoming storm of Whitewalkers. Arya has even disguised herself as a man to go join the Freefolk army, returning batter and bruised but smiling with satisfaction after the war’s end. For her part, Sansa had been her father’s assistant, shadowing him during all meetings with the guard and northern armies. A few of her ideas had actually been implemented to great success on the battlefield, and Sansa began attending the councils in her parent’s stead as her father rode with Robb up north and her mother went to rally the Tully forces. 

Sansa was in the library pouring over ancient northern maps when Bran ran in, barely containing his excitement. 

“He did it,” he breathed. Sansa perked her head up. 

“What?”

Bran held a note out for Sansa. Quickly, she unfolded it and began to read over the script.

”The prince and his maester,” Bran said excitedly. “They found a formula to blow dragon glass in the forge. He’s already made three shipments full of weapons in one month,” 

Sansa stared down at the parchment in disbelief.

”he’s sent ravens to every ruling house with the formula.  he’s going to follow the next shipment north-“

”where we’ll all push them back.” Sansa finished. Bran nodded. 

“Your husband just turned the war,” he teased.

 

In the end, the price of victory almost bled the country dry. More reports every day of hundreds of deaths piled in. One year after the deployment of dragonglass, the war was won at the expense of Westeros. The seven kingdoms, despite having come together to fight, had broken apart afterwards, deciding the large monarchy was responsible for the mass casualties. 

Gendry had survived, as had most of his family. His father had died in battle from an infected wound, and no one had heard from his uncle in a while. Some reports say he left with a tall giantess for Braavos, but no one was sure. His mother had fallen ill after his departure. Joffrey had died when he refused to leave Kings Landing amidst reports of the dragon queen’s invasion. 

The Starks faired better, but not by much. Ned and Catelyn has died shortly before the war’s end in a surprise attack on one of the northern forts. Robb had since taken up his place as King of the North, negotiating his mourning with his new responsibilities. Jon and Theon had survived, as had Arya. 

Another year after the war, Robb called Sansa into his study. Inside, he had unfurreled a crumbled piece of parchment, and looked up to his sister.

”Sansa,” he said as means of greeting. He held the paper out to her, and she took it without hesitating.

”The alliance is already set no matter your decision,” Robb said. “But if you’d like, we can arrange it this summer.”

Sansa looked up from the letter at her brother. Only 23 and the father of two, he looked so much older than his age. She knew he worried about them, and how he could plan for his siblings futures in such a time of uncertainty. Sansa folded the paper and handed it back to him.

”Father gave his word,” she said “let’s honor it.”

 

This was the first summer she would spend in the stormlands, she thought as she laid against Arya’s bony shoulder in the carriage. Her little sister had grown tired from riding, and Sansa had finally gotten her to agree to ride in the carriage with her before she fell off her horse. As they approached the back gates of the castle, Sansa looked up at the moon, hanging fat and bright in the sky.

They quickly settled into the guest quarters and fell asleep, exhausted from days of travel. All except Sansa. She stayed awake throughout the night, worrying the charm of her necklace between her thumb and forefinger. 

She was getting married in the morning. 

The ceremony was small and quiet, as the war had left even the largest houses in some sort of debt. Sansa wore a plain white dress and woke up early to assemble a flower crown and bouquet from the garden outside. When she returned to her chamber, Arya was fussing over the ties of her dress Sansa was “making her wear”. She looked up at her sister.

”you look like a plant.” She said. “A pretty one, though.” 

Sansa twirled her finger around a long strand of hair and jumped as a knock came to her door. Robb pushed in, and smiled.

”Ready?” He asked. Sansa took in a deep breath and nodded, walking forward to take her brother’s arm. 

The small sept in the castle was just enough to fit their small families in. Myrcella stood to the side with her fiancé, the Dornish prince Trystane, holding her hand. Cersei, who had only begun to look more gaunt as time rolled on, managed to smile at Sansa as she entered. When she turned up to look, she saw him, and felt her heart fall into her stomach. 

He had gotten only more handsome as he matured. His dark hair was still messy, but his face had gotten more square and his jaw was covered with medium stubble. Sansa let her eyes fall over his broad shoulders down his torso, his legs...

She snapped her eyes closed, chastising herself for behaving like a school girl. She allowed Robb to lead her to the front, where she stood face forward by the man who was about to be her husband. 

The ceremony had gone quickly. She had tried to keep her eyes off his when she had to turn to have her cloak replaced, feeling an intense blush creep over her. After it was done, she felt him take her small hand into his, and lead them down the hallway to the main hall.

The breakfast was small and quick. Sansa nervously popped berries into her mouth, keeping her eyes on the plate in front of her. She could not manage to make herself look at the man sitting beside her, poking at his food with as much interest as she had. And, what seemed almost impossibly soon, Theon stood up and began to call for the bedding. 

Sansa felt a red flush take over her body. She looked over to Robb, who, sending his sisters anxiety, raised his hand. 

“Due to the size of our party, and our relationships to the couple” he said, looking out over the room “I propose the women take my sister and the men take Gendry.” 

Sansa sighed, happy that at least she wouldn’t have to take that long awkward walk to her - no, their - bedchambers with three men who were like brothers. She pushed herself up from her place at the table, and walked over to where Myrcella was bouncing excitedly next to Cersei and her sister. She looked over her shoulder to see that Gendry was being pulled along by the men.

”Come,” Myrcella said, taking her hand. Sansa followed the younger girl, and felt a reassuring hand press into her back. Cersei must have sensed her anxiety, and was trying to comfort her.

”just don’t get on top to start,” Arya said, pulling at Sansa’s ties. With complete disregard for the fact that Gendry’s mother and sister were next to her, Arya leaned in and said in a not-so-quiet whisper:

”if he’s big, ask him to use his mouth on you first,” she said. Sansa wasn’t surprised at her younger sisters experience, and even suppressed a small smile when Myrcella flinched after Arya asked if either of them knew what “going on your knees for a man” meant.

Cersei wasn’t shocked by the talk, and as they were approaching the door, she took Sansa’s hand.

”You don’t have anything to be afraid of,” she said “he’s a good man.” She patted Sansa’s hand before letting in drop. Myrcella pulled at her hosiery, coaxing Sansa to lift each of her feet. Arya yanked the pins from her sister’s hair, letting it tumble forward.

”you still want the plants in here?” She asked. Sansa nodded, wanting to feel a little clothed. Without warning, she heard a ripping noise and looked over to see Arya had broken he strap on her shift.

”Arya!”

”what? You’re not going to do it with clothes on,” she said, reaching for the other and snapping it apart. Before Sansa could respond, she pushed the door open and gave her sister a quick shove in.

........

”We need to talk,” Robb said, pulling Gendry aside once they had left the main hall. Jon and Theon followed, a confused Tommen and Trystane hanging back.

”About?” Gendry asked, a bit nervously. He was good friends with all three of them, but he had also seen them all kill men in creative and bloody fashions.

”If she doesn’t want it, you don’t touch her.” Jon said. 

“I wouldn’t-“ Gendry was cut off by Theon.

”Promise us,” he said. Gendry stood, baffled that his good friends could have thought he could do something so monstrous. 

“I promise,” he said, the genuine tone of his voice causing all three men to relax. Satisfied, they began jostling him down the hallway.

”I’ll tell you since this lot won’t,” Theon said, throwing an arm around Gendry’s shoulders. “Women have a little button above their holes, yeah? You want her to be happy, you have to pay attention to that little thing. Sometimes with your mouth.” 

“Oh gods, you’re talking about my sister,” Robb said, pulling Gendry’s tunic. Gendry pulled it off and handed it to him. 

“I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t have a shit wedding night,” Theon said.

”right here,” Gendry raised his hand. 

“Oh shut up. It’s going to be the blind leading the blind in there. I’m just trying to give you some tips.” They arrived at the door, and Jon, who had had a bit much to drink, threw it open in an exaggerated show of ceremony. Gendry felt hands push him into the room, which stood empty save the bed and fireplace. 

“Have funnnnn,” Tommen sang as he closed the door behind them. Almost as soon as the men had gone, the door opposite had flung open, and Sansa spun in, clutching her shift to her chest. Once the door had closed, Sansa braved a look at her new husband. 

“Er,” he said, raising a hand. “Hello.”

Sansa stood up straighter, taking in the man before her. He had been left in his trousers, but his shirt was off, with dark tufts of hair covering his chest and dipping down into his waistband. Sansa swallowed and flicked her eyes back up to him.

”Hi,” she said.

Gendey turned to look at the bed, trying to think of some other activity they could do in a room that was specifically set up for them to fuck in. Luckily, she poke up first.

”I’m sorry I never responded to your gift,” she said. “I liked it.”

Gendry smiled and turned back to look at her. Sansa felt as if her heart was melting and smiled back at him.

She had grown into such a beautiful woman. Her red hair fell to her waist, and her big blue eyes always stopped him in his tracks. He remembered picking fights with her around the third summer they spent together, just because he wanted to talk to her. That day she had peeled off her dress and jumped in the ocean with them flashed through his head. 

“I’m glad,” he said. He took a step forward and, despite her fear, Sansa didn’t move. He reached out and touched a strand of her hair.

”I’ve always liked your hair,” he said. “Is that strange to say?”

She shook her head, not sure how to respond. He smiled and dropped his hand down. 

“I’m sorry I was a little shit when we were younger,” he said. “I didn’t get along with my brother and I sort of adopted yours ever summer to make up for the rest of the year.”

”Joffrey,” she said

”Yeah,” Gendry sighed. “Didn’t like me much.”

Sansa decided not to press thre issue. She looked down at the space between them and took a step closer, matching him.

”I was mean,” she said. “I picked fights because I had a crush on you but couldn’t handle actually talking to you like a person.”

Gendry laughed. Sansa looked up a bit offended before he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead.

”That’s why I always ran away from you when we were young,” he said. “I told your brothers it was because I didn’t like you but really, I was too nervous being around you to have fun. Except on the island.”

Sansa smiled at the memory, and broke eye contact. 

“Are you happy you did this?” He asked. Without missing a beat Sansa looked up.

”Yes. And you?”

He nodded.

”Yes,” 

He placed his hands on Sansa’s waist and slowly pulled her forward. Emboldened, Sansa dropped the shift from her grasp, letting the fabric pool at her waist above his hands as she leaned in to kiss him. He responded by kissing her back hungrily, moving his hands up to her back and letting her shift fall to the floor. Sansa hummed into his mouth as he began to skim the edge of her small clothes. Suddenly, he pulled away. 

“Is this okay? Will you tell me to stop if-?” 

Sansa silenced him by bringing his head back down to hers. Now with permission to proceed, Gendry dipped his fingers into the front of her small clothes, pressing into her folds and finding the button Theon had spoken of. Sansa gasped, and pushed him to the bed. He fell on his back, watching as she crawled atop of him and straddled his waist.

What Arya warned be damned. 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys  
> School has been a pain lately so I haven't had time to update all my stuff like I had been, but I did want to write something just for fun today, so here you go!

She rolled off of him and looked up at the night sky. He was breathing heavy beside her, and she was almost panting as fast as him. Her body always felt so relaxed after, especially when they were outside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose before exhaling and stretching her arms up.

He reached over and caught her around the wait, pulling her against him. She went with a squeak, and he smiled as she situated herself against him, pulling her skirt down from where it was still rucked up around her waist.

“I’m going to be very bad at playing the nervous maiden at the ceremony,” she said out of the blue. He laughed and dropped his hand to graze along her shoulder and down her arm. “I’ll be running ahead of all the men, throwing my clothes behind me and seeing myself into the bedchamber.”

She moved to lay atop him, her chin on top of the small, stacked hands pressed against his heart. He smiled down at her, sitting back up on his elbows.

“I don’t think you’re the first bride to ‘practice’ before her wedding night,” Gendry laughed.

“Is this what this is?” she asked, a smiled escaping across her face. “practice?”

“For a long and very happy union,” he said, giving out a final sigh as his body began to finally stop humming. She looked up at the moon.

“Been here two hours,” she said. “I told you no one would walk by.”

He nodded to rope ladder that they had climbed up hours earlier. “Still waiting to hear how you got that.”

“The library has some interesting manuals,” she shrugged. “End of the war means more free time. At least for now.” She rolled off of him and stood, looking down over the expanse. He sat up.

“Sansa, someone will see you-“

“Darling, we’re on the roof of the highest tower,” she said. Her nipples pebbled in the cold air. “No one can see us.”

But he gave her a concerned look, and she sat down anyway, climbing back under the blanket and laying her head on his bicep. They looked up at the sky in quiet.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

She nodded.

“Why didn’t you want to wait?” he asked. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Sansa smiled, and blindly reached to take his hand. She laced her fingers with his.

“Things seem to get taken from me quickly,” she said. “Who’s to say you won’t fall and break your neck? Or that someone won’t do it for you?” she shook her head. “I want you. I had you. No matter what happens, they can’t take my choice from me. And I don’t have to regret not doing something while I could.”

He paused for a moment.

“Are you planning to kill me?”

She giggled and turned into him.

“I’m saying,” she said. “That no matter what awful things may happen in the future, I’m glad I have this. I’m glad I didn’t wait, trusting fate to be kind to me. It hasn’t before.”

“You’re a cheery bride, aren’t you?” he dropped a kiss down to her forehead. “Well, now if I do get murdered, you’ll have a handful of times to choose from.”

Sansa blushed, and brought her hand to her face. Gendry laughed.

“What? It was quite nice being seduced. Never really happens to men.”

Sansa’s face was burning bright red. She brought her hand to cover her eyes. Gendry reached up, trying to pull it away, laughing.

“It was cute!” he said, smiling widely as Sansa still clenched her eyes shut, her face smiling and glowing beet red in the moonlight. “What was it you said? ‘Men like you don’t exist anymore. If you’re real, I want to be with you before the gods realize their mistake’. Very poetic.”

“I had some wine that night with dinner,” she said. “I was feeling bold.”

“I’d say,” he said. “Never saw a woman so excited to get pushed back onto a straw mattress before.”

Sansa sighed and opened her eyes. The cold air did nothing to help the burning on her face.

“Well,” she said. “I already did it once- which is all that matters, isn’t it?-so why not go back for seconds.”

“Or fifths,” Gendry corrected.

“I thought this was the fourth,” she said.

“I’m counting both times on my workbench.”  
“Ah,” she nodded, looking up again. They sat in silence for a while, and Gendry pulled her in tighter.

“You don’t think I’m ruined or anything, do you?” she asked.

“What? No,” he balked.

“I just…if you have preferred I waited and not acted so…wantonly…”

“ ‘Wantonly’? Gods, you nobles and your sexual politics. Sansa,” he sat up, pulling her gently with him. She pulled the blanket to cover her breasts.

“Do you honestly think that I would be made that the very beautiful woman I’m betrothed to wanted to consummate things a little early? Even if you hadn’t been a maiden, I wouldn’t have cared. I was just excited you wanted to be with me,”

She sent him a sympathetic look.

“Of course I…why wouldn’t I?” she reached her hand out to cup his cheek. When he turned to look at her, she smiled. “My lord husband is a very handsome man,”

he smiled.

“Your soon to be husband,” he said. “We’re not married yet.”

“Right,” Sansa climbed back astride him and pushed him down until his back lay flat on the stone. She rolled her hips against him. “We should get back to practicing.”


	8. Everyone's Got a Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took a study break and watched a weird episode of American Dad. Y'all's comments made me feel so much better in these trying weeks.

Sansa bit her lip and steeled herself for what she was about to do. 

"Arya," she called out, finally. The smaller woman turned, balancing the blade in her hand with such concentration Sansa wondered if she had heard her at all. 

"Yes, sister?" Arya deadpanned, her silver eyes set on the point of the sword. She playfully tapped her sister's hip, causing Sansa to jump to her side a bit. Nervous about what she was going to say next, Sansa took a deep breath in. 

"Could we...I have," she looked around the courtyard. It was empty save for some of the new servant hires who were following the head kitchen worker around, hanging on her every word. Sansa cleared her throat. "Could we speak somewhere private?"

Arya saw how anxious her sister had become and sheathed her sword. She turned to Sansa and lifted her eyebrows, waiting for her sister to direct them to a more private location. Sansa pressed forward, leading Arya down the path they used to run down as girls.

After a few more paces, Sansa turned and Arya finally saw the worry in her sister's face. She was getting better about hiding her emotions. 

"I need some...advice," Sansa said, fidgeting with her hands. Arya's gaze rose from her sister's twisting fingers and up to her face. 

"About?" she asked. 

Sansa took in a deep breath and looked down at her feet. 

"Er," she stalled. "Sex, I suppose."

Arya's eyes bugged out for a split second before she fell forward, laughing. Sansa's face pinched, and she looked up to the sky, waiting for her sister to finish. 

"Are you done?" she snapped. Arya wiped a tear from her eye and she stood back up, and relaxed against the wall, crossing her arms. 

"Alright, alright." Arya said. "With men or women?"

Sansa's shock caused Arya to fall into another spell of giggles. Just as Sansa turned to leave, Arya reached up. 

"Sansa I'm sorry," she said. "It's just funny. You're so...proper! You're a married woman, it's okay to discuss these things. It'd be okay if you  _weren't_ married, Your Highness." she said her title with a playful lilt in her tone.

"I just..." Sansa brought a hand to her face. "He's so...reserved. And we've only done it the one time, with all the candles out, and it was over so quickly, and-"

"So talk to him," Arya said nonchalantly. Sansa's eyebrows shot up. 

"I can't just-" she stopped herself and began to chew on her lip, trying to choose her words carefully before turning back to respond. "What if he thinks they're...strange?"

Arya's eyes widened. 

"You...strange?" Arya repeated.

Sansa huffed. 

"Forget it." she said, turning on the ball of her foot. 

"Sansa!" Arya cried out behind her. Sansa shook her head and pressed forward, turning the corner and going up to her chamber.

........

She had been lying on the furs when the door clicked open. She couldn't remember how long it had been after she had left Arya in their special path and bounded up the stairs, determined to spend the afternoon getting her head straight. She had stripped down to her slip and tried for a nap, and when that didn't work, she tried reading. Her thoughts still raced. She eventually gave up and laid on her back, looking up at the ceiling, contemplating her bed's future as her marriage's underutilized toy. 

The creak of the door woke her up. She lifted her head expecting Alyson to be coming in, but instead, she saw her husband softly closing the door behind him. 

"Gendry?" she asked. She looked out the window. "What time is it?"

"Near midnight," he said, pulling off one of his shoes and depositing it by the door. She smiled. He always remembered her rule. Without his shoes, he pulled his tunic over his head and deposited it in the linen bag by the end of their bed. Sansa took in a sharp breath as her eyes fell down his torso. 

"Must have slept, after all," she said. 

"Arya said you needed your sleep," he said. He sat on the mattress. "Said you had something we needed to talk about that would take all night,"

Sansa's eyes bulged and she gripped the blanket in her hands.

"I'm going to kill her," she said.

Gendry didn't respond, waiting for a further explanation. 

Sansa sighed. She brought her knees up to her chin and looked at him. 

"I asked her about something sensitive. She laughed, as always." Sansa rolled her eyes. Gendry still didn't respond, waiting for her to explain further. "I asked her about...marriage."

"You asked Arya?" Gendry smiled. "About marriage?"

"Well not," Sansa looked down at her hands and began to tangle her fingers nervously. "Not marriage. More like...marriage activities."

"Sex?" Gendry said bluntly. Sansa felt her face heat up. 

"Yes," she answered. She hugged her knees tighter. 

"What did you ask about?" 

"It's embarrassing,"

"I'm your husband."

She sighed. 

"I wanted to ask about...wants."

"Wants?"

"You know," she said, trying desperately to avoid his gaze. "Actions you want to happen...during. That excite you." 

Gendry smiled and nodded for her to continue. 

"I wanted to know if mine were normal," she said. 

She waited for him to laugh at her like Arya had. Instead, he crossed his legs and dropped one of his hands on her feet. 

"What are they?" he asked. 

Sansa looked up from where she had dropped her head in embarrassment. Gently, Gendry extended her leg out into his lap, and began rubbing her calf. She shuddered a bit at how his hard he could dig into her muscle. 

"Um," she said, trying to find the words as his fingers grazed the underside of her knee. She felt a line of fire ignite down her thigh. "It's not...it's silly,"

"Tell me," he said softly, his other hand coming to rub above her knee. She sighed as he dug into a knot on the inside of her knee. Her legs fell open slightly. 

"I suppose," she sighed. "You know how you...you're a smith?"

Gendry looked up from her leg and met her gaze to respond. "I'm aware,"

"Well," his hand dipped further down the inside of her thigh. "You're strong. And I've seen you throw men around in the sparring square, and bashing your hammer into things and I just...would you use some of that strength with me?"

He paused his work on her leg and looked up at her. She felt suddenly self-conscious. 

"You want me to be rougher with you?" he asked.

Sansa ran her fingers behind her ear as if there were any hair to tuck away.

"I mean," she looked to the foot of the bed before finding some courage and meeting his gaze. "Yes?"

She saw his lips flick into a smile before he pulled on her leg. When she was further down the bed, he crawled between her legs, pushing the two of them up to the center of the mattress. 

"How?" he said in barely a whisper as he held himself over her. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. 

"How?" she repeated, not believing what he was suggesting. He nodded. 

"I..." her mouth felt dry. "Hold my hands above my head?" 

He wrapped one hand around both of her wrists and hoisted her arms up. Her back arched.

"Like this?" he asked.

Sansa nodded vigorously. 

"What next?"

"Um," she couldn't look at him. Not while saying this. "Pull my hair?"

She felt him grab a fistful and give a half-hearted yank. She frowned.

"No?" he asked. 

"Harder," she said, amazed at how crass she sounded. Her self-admonishment was interrupted by a sharp pull on her scalp. 

"Better," she smiled. She finally felt courageous enough to look back up at him. 

"Is this strange?" she asked

He shook his head. 

"If you think this is strange," he said. "You wouldn't want to know what I've imagined doing to you."

"Why haven't you?" she asked, sort of breathless. Gendry shrugged.

"Didn't want to offend you...or scare you."

Sansa was taken aback by his shyness. She reached up and ran her fingertips lightly down the side of his face. He turned back and looked down at her, his face soft and vulnerable. Sansa brought her wrists up and laced her fingers around the back of his neck. 

"Show me now," she said. 

With a grin, she felt Gendry grab her by her waist and duck out of her hold. She spun around, and found herself bent over his lap. 

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said. Sansa, dumbstruck, nodded, and relaxed her face against the outside of his thigh. 

He brought his hand down swiftly, a large SMACK! ringing out through the room as Sansa let out a small screech. She covered her mouth, startled by her unbridled reaction. 

"Good?" he asked, his hand still resting against one of her cheeks. Sansa nodded, covering her face in her palms. Gods. Gods. I'm a dirty, low moraled woman. I like getting my arse slapped-

he brought down another hand, and Sansa let out another yelp. Gendry smiled smugly to himself. Before he could raise his hand again, Sansa pushed up from her position and wrapped her legs around him. 

"There's another," she said. 

"I wasn't done with you," he said, trying to coax her back down. She caught his wrists. 

"After this," she said. "I want to do it like in one of the Dothraki tapestries." She flushed at the memory of unfurling Dany's wedding present in the presence of her younger brother. She could have included a note or something. "And I don't want you to be gentle." 

It was Gendry's turn to flush. He tried to play it off, flipping her back over his lap, but she had seen the pink rise in his cheeks.

"I'm not gentle with girls who don't listen," he said, landing another blow on her behind. Sansa gasped. "Ten more."

Sansa bit her bottom lip and fought a grin. 

"Yes, sir,"

......

The next morning, Bran dispatched Arya to wake Sansa. Gendry had left that morning for a day touring the progress of recovering villages, telling his in-laws his wife was still asleep. But noon had come and gone, and yet Sansa had yet to show up. Bran grew frustrated - him and his schedules- and demanded someone go fetch her. Arya volunteered, not wanting to stay in the room as he lectured everyone about punctuality. 

"Sansa," she said, knocking on the door. When no one answered, she pushed it open and took a step in. 

A lump atop the bed sat up, furs held to its chest. 

"Arya?" Sansa asked sleepily. When her eyes adjusted, she frowned. "Ugh. Go away. I'm sleeping." She fell back atop the furs. 

From behind, the furs flew up, letting in the room's cold air. Sansa shrieked, yanked the covers back down, and glared at her grinning sister.

"Nice handprints on your arse," Arya laughed. "and thighs." She leaned in and lifted a finger to point at Sansa's throat. "How liberal is his definition of "below the collar'? This one's practically under your ear." she poked the love bite, causing Sansa to swat her hand away. The fur fell from Sansa's chest, and Arya saw that the love bites went well below her sister's neck. Bloody hell, how much had they done last night?

"If you're done tormenting me," Sansa said, "I'd like to get back to sleep."

"What shall I tell the council?" Arya laughed. "Sorry, Sansa's recovering from being properly and savagely fucked all night long by the King?"

Arya expected a pillow to the face, but Sansa instead pulled the covers over her head. 

"Tell them whatever you want!" she said. She pulled a pillow from the top of the bed under into her cave, listening as Arya's footsteps made for the door. Before her sister could clear the door, Sansa poked her head out one last time.

"And when my husband comes back tonight, tell him to report to our chambers immediately!"

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a cool idea for modern AU. Starks are future tech and steel industry and all around good people (as good as businesses can be anyway, I guess. Class politics translates weirdly out of fantasy and into "modern times". Like why am I rooting for all these rich guys?)

As far as arrests went, this one had gone  _alright._

Arya tried to wiggle her nose and tasted the blood on her teeth. She smiled. 

"You look like a demon when you do that," 

She swiveled her head to look at her companion, who was hunched over and morosely staring at the wall in front of them. His big hand was cuffed to the armrest between them, clinking against hers. She sucked at her teeth and tried looking through the glassed-in open-office space in front of them. She hadn't seen Jon's curly mop of dark hair anywhere- that's why she had to call  _her-_ but maybe he had dipped out for a smoke break. As if on cue, the door near the back opened, and Jon and one of the other cadets filed in. Arya waved her free hand frantically. 

"Jon!" she said in the strange yell-whisper that quiet people do when trying to mouth words. Jon's dark eyes left the redhead in front of him and flicked over to her. 

His face fell. Arya smiled. 

He excused himself from the conversation and held his shoulders back. It always made Arya giggle how hard he tried to present "authority" at work. She licked some of the blood off the front of her teeth as he walked through the door separating the offices from the hallway. 

"Who's she, then?" Arya wiggled her eyebrows. Jon raised a warning finger. 

"Don't try it. What'd you do this time?" 

"Ugh, nothing," she said. Jon bent down in front of her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head to side.

" _Ow,"_ Arya exaggerated in annoyance. Jon clucked at her. 

"You think it's broken?" he asked. 

Arya shook her head. 

"Just a bit bloody. It's nothing," 

Jon let his hand drop and finally turned to his cousin's companion.

"And she dragged you into her shit, did she?"

Gendry let his head fall to his palm.

"Leave him alone. He was trying to pull me off the guy, and your stupid friend decided to arrest him,"

Jon sighed and looked up at his friend. 

"You alright?" he asked. 

Gendry nodded and tilted his head to crack his neck. 

"Not the worst "welcome to the city" party I've been to," he said. He flexed his hands against his knees. Jon looked over his shoulder. 

"Who was it?" he asked as if routine. Arya smiled. 

"Sammy," she said sweetly. "and Griff." more acidic this time. "Sam was going to let Gendry go, but Griff-"

Jon pulled his keys from his belt and reached out between the two criminals in front of him, taking one of the cuff's in his hand and trying the key. Gendry raised his hand and stretched, free from the chair. Jon went to hook his keys back. 

"Hey! Hey!" Arya raised her still-handcuffed wrist. 

"I can vouch for him, but you," he said, leaning against the glass. " 'Assault with a deadly weapon'? What were you thinking?"

"Okay, well first off, the law is incredibly dramatic. It was a beer bottle-"

"That you broke on the bar and held to his throat," Gendry offered. 

"Shut up! He was being a prick, like  _always,_ and I had been drinking for since noon, and  _he's_ the one that approached  _our_ table. If he hates you so much, why does he always have to come  _up_ to our group?"

"I don't know, Arya, I don't fucking know the guy," Gendry snapped. He hadn't meant to be so cutting, but he was terrible at hiding his emotions. He was angry. He had taken the job up here working for her dad not two weeks ago, and the last thing he needed his new boss to hear was "your daughter and that southern boy got arrested". It was bad enough that everyone knew what he was there - the Baratheon billionaire's college 'mistake' that had mostly been hidden from the media, at least until a few years ago when the story broke. Turns out Gendry had a lot of brothers and sisters across the city. Additionally, rich assholes can make your life a living hell. 

Technically, Cersei hadn't taken any legal action against him or threatened him in any way, but she didn't need to. He was let go from his welding job on the docks that he had since he was 16 for a bullshit reason- some convenient old protocol that no one followed but could, if the manager was a huge dick (which he was), be considered a fireable offense if ignored. It was assumed that the employee would get a warning, though, and Gendry had not. 

Nowhere in the city would hire him. He could barely afford payments on his mother's apartment even with all the double shifts he pulled working odd labor jobs under the table. One day, when he came home and found not just the eviction notice, but the actual work of said eviction piled on the street corner in a haphazard pile, he knew he needed to go. 

His father wasn't without mercy, though, especially if you played to his ego. Despite not being in Gendry's life, he fancied himself a fun, distant father who was proud of his natural son and his honest laborer's job. The day of the eviction, Gendry had gone to the castle to ask for his audience. He had to bite his tongue until it bled, but he swallowed his pride and approached the office of Robert Baratheon, CEO of Stag Industries. 

One favor. The only one he's ever asked for. 

......

It turned out he needn't have asked- Ned Stark had already sent an offer of employment. 

Stark Steel was the north's biggest company, and one of the most charitable organizations in the country. The CEO, Eddard Stark, was one of only two noble houses that gave more than half of their company's earnings to charity. Fitting, Gendry thought to himself, that he should want to pick up another charity case. 

Gendry very much doubted that Ned Stark, the CEO, philanthropist, and war hero, had taken the time to go down to his workshop and discuss new hires with the workers (he would later learn that yes, Ned Stark was this person). But he knew his father felt guilty for the actions of his vengeful wife, and he allowed himself to use his lofty connections for once. He accepted Ned Stark's offer and left the next day. 

He had met Ned briefly when he was a boy. He had come down when his eldest daughter was moving to attend university and managed to find time to slip away and introduce himself to his old friend's bastard. Gendry remembered being on the docks that day, covered in sweat and filth, and yet Ned Stark didn't hesitate to hold out his hand in greeting. 

But that was years ago, and now he was here, just starting a new job with some actually damn authority (instead of wasting away under idiot old men and following orders, now he was going to be in charge of a team. Project Manager. He imagined it sewn onto his jumpsuit in a pretty cursive font) and he had gone and gotten himself arrested. With his boss's daughter no less. 

"Well fuck you, too, then," Arya snapped back at him. Gendry brought a hand to his face. 

"I'm sorry. I just don't want your father thinking-"

"Oh shutttt uppppppp" she moaned, rolling her eyes. "My father adores you. He thinks you're a good influence on me. If anything, I'm in the shit for getting you in trouble." The door behind them clicked open, and the three of them swiveled their heads around. 

"Hey sister," Arya sing-songed. 

Gendry had never met Arya's older sister- he had only met Arya through one of the kitchen staff he had befriended, and they three had formed a sort of group. But while Arya was happy to drink in bars loudly and make friends with everyone, the rest of the family had been relatively shut off. Not that anyone could blame them - Catelyn with her non-profit, Robb working his way up from the mailroom, and the younger boys still in school, its a wonder anyone in the family had free time. Gendry often wondered how seriously Arya took her classes. 

Her sister though, he had been told a few times over many drinks, was the  _good_ girl. She had gotten into a good university, made good grades, excelled in her extracurriculars, and now had her dream job. ("She's just so  _pretty_ and  _girly_ and she majored in POETRY- who does that? How the fuck did she get a job and I'm still in school?" "Probably because you keep ditching classes to get drunk with us." "Fuck you, Hot Pie."). As Gendry lifted his head to take in the "golden girl" before him, he felt his heart flutter in his chest a bit. 

Sansa ignored Arya's greeting and turned to their cousin. 

"Hey Jon," she sighed. Jon smiled. 

"Hey Sansa," he said, walking over to give her a brotherly hug. 

"I didn't get a hug," Arya pouted. 

"And I didn't get arrested," Sansa countered. She looked at the man next to her sister. 

"I don't believe we've met formally," Sansa said. She reached a small, manicured hand out. A beat before it would have gotten awkward, Gendry reached out his hand and shook hers. She didn't hesitate, even after seeing the cuts and scrapes her sister had left of his hand. Just like her father. "I'm Sansa Stark,"

"Gendry Waters," he said. He gave a small, shy smile. She looked like one of those women who always appear in romantic comedies- put together, organized, polished women who are too busy and proper for love, or whatever. He didn't know. It had been so long since he had had a girlfriend who liked that kind of film- or just a girlfriend at all, really. Maybe that's why his hands felt so sweaty after their handshake ended. 

"You're the new project manager in the workshop warehouse, aren't you?" she asked. He gave a quick not. "I remember! Father-"

"Hey," Arya interrupted. "Not to be a downer, but I did call you for a reason,"

Sansa pursed her lips. She hated being interrupted but held her tongue. 

"Right. Jon," she turned her head to her cousin. Gendry was hit by a sweet wave of fragrance from her hair. "Do I need to sign something?"

"There's a fine," he said. "And she's going to have to show up for court later." 

"Are you joking?" Arya huffed.

"Maybe don't smash a bottle in the crown prince of industry's face, then," Sansa snapped. 

"Shouldn't you be thanking me?" Arya huffed. "You dated him for a like a week and then he started roughing you up. He's lucky I didn't fucking kill him,"

"Long con revenge?" Sansa raised an eyebrow. "I'm not 17 anymore, Arya. And you're not a child. You're already on thin ice with the dean at the college as it is, and if you're serious about this military engineering thing, you can't keep doing shit like this," Sansa waited for her sister to retort something smart, but when Arya stayed silent, Sansa sighed and turned to dig through her purse. Gendry looked at her pretty, flowing dress and dainty pale arms as she fiddled for her wallet. He tried to imagine his half-brother hurting her, and it made him want to crack his little blonde head open. 

Sansa nodded to the front desk, and Jon led the way in a silent, dutiful march that only the tired, close relatives of a trouble child can master. After a few minutes and some hushed bickering, Jon came to kneel by her with the key and finally released her. 

"There," he said. He reached up and ruffled her hair. She made a face and swatted at him. "Don't forget to be here Tuesday morning at 9 am." 

"Mmmpf," Arya answered, pushing herself up from the chair. She clutched the papers Jon gave her and looked outside. 

"What time is it?"

"11:49," Sansa answered. "And before you ask, no, I'm not driving you all the way back to your place, so you can just stay with me."

"But what about him?" Arya pointed to Gendry. Sansa's eyes flicked to his, and held his gaze. He felt the surface of his skin prickle with a heat. 

"I can walk," he offered, not really thinking of the dangerous highways and the dark, cold night. 

"Don't be an idiot," Arya huffed. "You live closer to the factory than I do. Jon?"

"I'm here til 6 in the morning. I could offer you a desk?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sansa said diplomatically. "He can stay at my place. I've got the guest room, now."

"Ooh, look at you," Arya rolled her eyes. Sansa fixed her with a look. 

"Really? Are we going to make fun of the person responsible for taking you someplace warm to sleep?"

Arya stuck out her tongue. 

"Fine. Gendry and I will leave you here and go have a lovely time together without you," she replied. A moment passed before she realized what she had said. "I mean-...as in-!" Gendry fought the laughter threatening to bubble up. The panic in her eyes was adorable. Arya didn't agree, apparently. 

"Ugh, can we do this in the car?" 

.....

Arya had fallen asleep in the back of the car not five minutes after leaving the station. Sansa had a newer car- it was a dark purple with smooth cloth seats, and still smelled like a showroom. Gendry admired the computer in the console. It was one of those new eco-friendly cars - because of course, she would have that - and it made his rusty truck look like a piece of plywood with elementary wheels on each corner. 

"So," she said suddenly, cutting through the silence. "Project manager. Sounds exciting," she smiled at him. 

"Uh," he shifted in his seat. He wished Arya was awake. He never knew how to talk to pretty women. "Yeah. I...supose. Yeah. The next project looks good."

"What is it?"

"What is what?"

"The project,"

"Oh!" Gendry said. He desperately tried to remember. God, he was a shit employee. And still a little drunk. "We're installing the solar glass on the east side of the lab. If it generates enough power in the first weeks, we'll do the whole," he made a motion with his hand, briefly forgetting the word he was looking for. "...building. thing."

Sansa smiled. Arya snored in the back. 

"What about you? You...ah...work at Stark Steel?" he asked. Why was he so nervous?

"No," she said. "I run a small publishing business out of my bookstore."

"A store? I- wow. That's impressive."

She laughed. 

"Not really. I read all day or listen to records."

"Sounds good to me," he said. He jerked his head back to their other passenger. "She said you're doing very well,"

Sansa shrugged. "Being the only bookstore or print shop for miles and miles doesn't hurt, either. We're very industry driven, our city," she smiled. 

"One bookstore? That's insane." 

"Our biggest exports are steel and research," she answered. "The university has a bookstore and library, but it's a hassle to navigate that campus." 

Gendry nodded and bit his lip. He wanted to push past small talk but didn't trust himself to say proper, human things. He hadn't felt this way in a while. He partially blamed the alcohol. 

The rest of the short ride was in relative silence. Arya stirred not long after their conversation had fizzled out in the front seats, and she kept rubbing her eyes and insisting they stop for post-jail pancakes. Sansa refused and took a turn down a small street and pulled into the driveway of a small, pink house. 

"Arya knows where the guest room is, if you two want to-"

"Ugh! Gross! I'm not fucking Gendry," Arya said. Gendry felt his face flush red. Sansa quickly turned off the car and pushed the door open. Gendry did not see how flushed her face had become at Arya's comment. 

"You two are so easy to scandalize," she said, pushing herself out the back door. Gendry followed suit, and soon the three had entered the small house. It smelled like lavender and cold metal pipes. 

"Lady," Sansa sang out softly. A large dog appeared from the hallway and padded up to her. The dog licked her owner's hand and looked over at the two guests curiously. 

"She's sweet, and doesn't bite," she said, worried that Gendry would be anxious. He smiled and reached out his hand to pet the dog. She licked his wrist. 

"Come," she said, motioning for them to follow her down the hall. Gendry pushed his hands into his pockets and took in the modest house. He had expected a more grandiose estate for the heiress of Stark Steel, but instead, she had a humble little cottage with tasteful decorating and cozy furniture. He liked that. 

Arya pushed past the two of them to the last room of the right. She kicked the door open and moments later Sansa and Gendry heard the  _whump!_ of a body falling onto a mattress. Sansa sighed and reached across Gendry to turn a knob, and pushed the door open. 

After he flicked on a light, he saw the small guest room that had been lovingly cleaned and organized, as if someone had come to take pictures for Pinterest. The design was simple- just a twin bed with crisp white sheets and a refurbished wood table, but it felt clean .       and nice. Like her. 

"Bathroom is," she pointed out the door and to the room next to his. "there. And if you need anything, feel free to follow my sister's example and barge in," she smiled, obviously meaning it as a joke. 

Gendry smiled back. 

"Everything is wonderful," he said. "Thank you for letting me stay the night,"

"Of course," she said. "Thank you for making sure my sister wasn't beaten to a bloody pulp. A night's stay on a small mattress hardly makes up for it," she laughed. 

Gendry felt a warmth spread from his chest. Something pushed him to say it. 

"Well, I'm sure we'll cross paths int he future- Arya doesn't seem bent on changing her ways."

"Hopefully no more police," Sansa said. 

"I dunno," Gendry shrugged. "We got to meet. I'd say that was worth going to jail for." 

The air around them electrified in the silence. Gendry could swear her felt little licks of shock crackle against his skin. Sansa smiled, almost said something, and then dropped her eyes to the floor, smiled again and letting out an exasperated laugh, unsure of what to say. 

"That's...I-" she looked up at him and gave a little helpless smile. "That's sweet. I'm sure you're also...arrest worthy." 

He smiled at her and they stood there for a beat, two smiling idiots holding awkward eye contact, formulating the best way to get this person closer to them. 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"...."

",...."

"Well,"

"Right,"

"Um,"

"If you need-"

"-just barge-"

"ha, yeah"

"I won't though. Quite rude,"

"Tell my sister that,"

"She'll kill me."

Sansa smiled in the doorway as he stood int he middle of the room. Again, they fell into a dopey, smiley silence that only feels comfortable within infatuation's folie a deux. 

"Well, Goodnight, Gendry," she said. "I suppose I'll be seeing you around more,"

"Yes," he said back. "Hopefully." 

She smiled. 

"Sleep well." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May continue in future chapters. Sorry for all the sporadic writing. Updates coming soon for all!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a cool idea for modern AU. Starks are future tech and steel industry and all around good people (as good as businesses can be anyway, I guess. Class politics translates weirdly out of fantasy and into "modern times". Like why am I rooting for all these rich guys?)

As far as arrests went, this one had gone  _alright._

Arya tried to wiggle her nose and tasted the blood on her teeth. She smiled. 

"You look like a demon when you do that," 

She swiveled her head to look at her companion, who was hunched over and morosely staring at the wall in front of them. His big hand was cuffed to the armrest between them, clinking against hers. She sucked at her teeth and tried looking through the glassed-in open-office space in front of them. She hadn't seen Jon's curly mop of dark hair anywhere- that's why she had to call  _her-_ but maybe he had dipped out for a smoke break. As if on cue, the door near the back opened, and Jon and one of the other cadets filed in. Arya waved her free hand frantically. 

"Jon!" she said in the strange yell-whisper that quiet people do when trying to mouth words. Jon's dark eyes left the redhead in front of him and flicked over to her. 

His face fell. Arya smiled. 

He excused himself from the conversation and held his shoulders back. It always made Arya giggle how hard he tried to present "authority" at work. She licked some of the blood off the front of her teeth as he walked through the door separating the offices from the hallway. 

"Who's she, then?" Arya wiggled her eyebrows. Jon raised a warning finger. 

"Don't try it. What'd you do this time?" 

"Ugh, nothing," she said. Jon bent down in front of her and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head to side.

" _Ow,"_ Arya exaggerated in annoyance. Jon clucked at her. 

"You think it's broken?" he asked. 

Arya shook her head. 

"Just a bit bloody. It's nothing," 

Jon let his hand drop and finally turned to his cousin's companion.

"And she dragged you into her shit, did she?"

Gendry let his head fall to his palm.

"Leave him alone. He was trying to pull me off the guy, and your stupid friend decided to arrest him,"

Jon sighed and looked up at his friend. 

"You alright?" he asked. 

Gendry nodded and tilted his head to crack his neck. 

"Not the worst "welcome to the city" party I've been to," he said. He flexed his hands against his knees. Jon looked over his shoulder. 

"Who was it?" he asked as if routine. Arya smiled. 

"Sammy," she said sweetly. "and Griff." more acidic this time. "Sam was going to let Gendry go, but Griff-"

Jon pulled his keys from his belt and reached out between the two criminals in front of him, taking one of the cuff's in his hand and trying the key. Gendry raised his hand and stretched, free from the chair. Jon went to hook his keys back. 

"Hey! Hey!" Arya raised her still-handcuffed wrist. 

"I can vouch for him, but you," he said, leaning against the glass. " 'Assault with a deadly weapon'? What were you thinking?"

"Okay, well first off, the law is incredibly dramatic. It was a beer bottle-"

"That you broke on the bar and held to his throat," Gendry offered. 

"Shut up! He was being a prick, like  _always,_ and I had been drinking for since noon, and  _he's_ the one that approached  _our_ table. If he hates you so much, why does he always have to come  _up_ to our group?"

"I don't know, Arya, I don't fucking know the guy," Gendry snapped. He hadn't meant to be so cutting, but he was terrible at hiding his emotions. He was angry. He had taken the job up here working for her dad not two weeks ago, and the last thing he needed his new boss to hear was "your daughter and that southern boy got arrested". It was bad enough that everyone knew what he was there - the Baratheon billionaire's college 'mistake' that had mostly been hidden from the media, at least until a few years ago when the story broke. Turns out Gendry had a lot of brothers and sisters across the city. Additionally, rich assholes can make your life a living hell. 

Technically, Cersei hadn't taken any legal action against him or threatened him in any way, but she didn't need to. He was let go from his welding job on the docks that he had since he was 16 for a bullshit reason- some convenient old protocol that no one followed but could, if the manager was a huge dick (which he was), be considered a fireable offense if ignored. It was assumed that the employee would get a warning, though, and Gendry had not. 

Nowhere in the city would hire him. He could barely afford payments on his mother's apartment even with all the double shifts he pulled working odd labor jobs under the table. One day, when he came home and found not just the eviction notice, but the actual work of said eviction piled on the street corner in a haphazard pile, he knew he needed to go. 

His father wasn't without mercy, though, especially if you played to his ego. Despite not being in Gendry's life, he fancied himself a fun, distant father who was proud of his natural son and his honest laborer's job. The day of the eviction, Gendry had gone to the castle to ask for his audience. He had to bite his tongue until it bled, but he swallowed his pride and approached the office of Robert Baratheon, CEO of Stag Industries. 

One favor. The only one he's ever asked for. 

......

It turned out he needn't have asked- Ned Stark had already sent an offer of employment. 

Stark Steel was the north's biggest company, and one of the most charitable organizations in the country. The CEO, Eddard Stark, was one of only two noble houses that gave more than half of their company's earnings to charity. Fitting, Gendry thought to himself, that he should want to pick up another charity case. 

Gendry very much doubted that Ned Stark, the CEO, philanthropist, and war hero, had taken the time to go down to his workshop and discuss new hires with the workers (he would later learn that yes, Ned Stark was this person). But he knew his father felt guilty for the actions of his vengeful wife, and he allowed himself to use his lofty connections for once. He accepted Ned Stark's offer and left the next day. 

He had met Ned briefly when he was a boy. He had come down when his eldest daughter was moving to attend university and managed to find time to slip away and introduce himself to his old friend's bastard. Gendry remembered being on the docks that day, covered in sweat and filth, and yet Ned Stark didn't hesitate to hold out his hand in greeting. 

But that was years ago, and now he was here, just starting a new job with some actually damn authority (instead of wasting away under idiot old men and following orders, now he was going to be in charge of a team. Project Manager. He imagined it sewn onto his jumpsuit in a pretty cursive font) and he had gone and gotten himself arrested. With his boss's daughter no less. 

"Well fuck you, too, then," Arya snapped back at him. Gendry brought a hand to his face. 

"I'm sorry. I just don't want your father thinking-"

"Oh shutttt uppppppp" she moaned, rolling her eyes. "My father adores you. He thinks you're a good influence on me. If anything, I'm in the shit for getting you in trouble." The door behind them clicked open, and the three of them swiveled their heads around. 

"Hey sister," Arya sing-songed. 

Gendry had never met Arya's older sister- he had only met Arya through one of the kitchen staff he had befriended, and they three had formed a sort of group. But while Arya was happy to drink in bars loudly and make friends with everyone, the rest of the family had been relatively shut off. Not that anyone could blame them - Catelyn with her non-profit, Robb working his way up from the mailroom, and the younger boys still in school, its a wonder anyone in the family had free time. Gendry often wondered how seriously Arya took her classes. 

Her sister though, he had been told a few times over many drinks, was the  _good_ girl. She had gotten into a good university, made good grades, excelled in her extracurriculars, and now had her dream job. ("She's just so  _pretty_ and  _girly_ and she majored in POETRY- who does that? How the fuck did she get a job and I'm still in school?" "Probably because you keep ditching classes to get drunk with us." "Fuck you, Hot Pie."). As Gendry lifted his head to take in the "golden girl" before him, he felt his heart flutter in his chest a bit. 

Sansa ignored Arya's greeting and turned to their cousin. 

"Hey Jon," she sighed. Jon smiled. 

"Hey Sansa," he said, walking over to give her a brotherly hug. 

"I didn't get a hug," Arya pouted. 

"And I didn't get arrested," Sansa countered. She looked at the man next to her sister. 

"I don't believe we've met formally," Sansa said. She reached a small, manicured hand out. A beat before it would have gotten awkward, Gendry reached out his hand and shook hers. She didn't hesitate, even after seeing the cuts and scrapes her sister had left of his hand. Just like her father. "I'm Sansa Stark,"

"Gendry Waters," he said. He gave a small, shy smile. She looked like one of those women who always appear in romantic comedies- put together, organized, polished women who are too busy and proper for love, or whatever. He didn't know. It had been so long since he had had a girlfriend who liked that kind of film- or just a girlfriend at all, really. Maybe that's why his hands felt so sweaty after their handshake ended. 

"You're the new project manager in the workshop warehouse, aren't you?" she asked. He gave a quick not. "I remember! Father-"

"Hey," Arya interrupted. "Not to be a downer, but I did call you for a reason,"

Sansa pursed her lips. She hated being interrupted but held her tongue. 

"Right. Jon," she turned her head to her cousin. Gendry was hit by a sweet wave of fragrance from her hair. "Do I need to sign something?"

"There's a fine," he said. "And she's going to have to show up for court later." 

"Are you joking?" Arya huffed.

"Maybe don't smash a bottle in the crown prince of industry's face, then," Sansa snapped. 

"Shouldn't you be thanking me?" Arya huffed. "You dated him for a like a week and then he started roughing you up. He's lucky I didn't fucking kill him,"

"Long con revenge?" Sansa raised an eyebrow. "I'm not 17 anymore, Arya. And you're not a child. You're already on thin ice with the dead at the college as it is, and if you're serious about this military engineering thing, you can't keep doing shit like this," Sansa waited for her sister to retort something smart, but when Arya stayed silent, Sansa sighed and turned to dig through her purse. Gendry looked at her pretty, flowing dress and dainty pale arms as she fiddled for her wallet. He tried to imagine his half-brother hurting her, and it made him want to crack his little blonde head open. 

Sansa nodded to the front desk, and Jom led the way in a silent, dutiful march that only the tired, close relatives of a trouble child can master. After a few minutes and some hushed bickering, Jon came to kneel by her with the key and finally released her. 

"There," he said. He reached up and ruffled her hair. She made a face and swatted at him. "Don't forget to be here Tuesday morning at 9 am." 

"Mmmpf," Arya answered, pushing herself up from the chair. She clutched the papers Jon gave her and looked outside. 

"What time is it?"

"11:49," Sansa answered. "And before you ask, no, I'm not driving you all the way back to your place, so you can just stay with me."

"But what about him?" Arya pointed to Gendry. Sansa's eyes flicked to his, and held his gaze. He felt the surface of his skin prickle with a heat. 

"I can walk," he offered, not really thinking of the dangerous highways and the dark, cold night. 

"Don't be an idiot," Arya huffed. "You live closer to the factory than I do. Jon?"

"I'm here til 6 in the morning. I could offer you a desk?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sansa said diplomatically. "He can stay at my place. I've got the guest room, now."

"Ooh, look at you," Arya rolled her eyes. Sansa fixed her with a look. 

"Really? Are we going to make fun of the person responsible for taking you someplace warm to sleep?"

Arya stuck out her tongue. 

"Fine. Gendry and I will leave you here and go have a lovely time together without you," she replied. A moment passed before she realized what she had said. "I mean-...as in-!" Gendry fought the laughter threatening to bubble up. The panic in her eyes was adorable. Arya didn't agree, apparently. 

"Ugh, can we do this in the car?" 

.....

Arya had fallen asleep in the back of the car not five minutes after leaving the station. Sansa had a newer car- it was a dark purple with smooth cloth seats, and still smelled like a showroom. Gendry admired the computer in the console. It was one of those new eco-friendly cars - because of course, she would have that - and it made his rusty truck look like a piece of plywood with elementary wheels on each corner. 

"So," she said suddenly, cutting through the silence. "Project manager. Sounds exciting," she smiled at him. 

"Uh," he shifted in his seat. He wished Arya was awake. He never knew how to talk to pretty women. "Yeah. I...supose. Yeah. The next project looks good."

"What is it?"

"What is what?"

"The project,"

"Oh!" Gendry said. He desperately tried to remember. God, he was a shit employee. And still a little drunk. "We're installing the solar glass on the east side of the lab. If it generates enough power in the first weeks, we'll do the whole," he made a motion with his hand, briefly forgetting the word he was looking for. "...building. thing."

Sansa smiled. Arya snored in the back. 

"What about you? You...ah...work at Stark Steel?" he asked. Why was he so nervous?

"No," she said. "I run a small publishing business out of my bookstore."

"A store? I- wow. That's impressive."

She laughed. 

"Not really. I read all day or listen to records."

"Sounds good to me," he said. He jerked his head back to their other passenger. "She said you're doing very well,"

Sansa shrugged. "Being the only bookstore or print shop for miles and miles doesn't hurt, either. We're very industry driven, our city," she smiled. 

"One bookstore? That's insane." 

"Our biggest exports are steel and research," she answered. "The university has a bookstore and library, but it's a hassle to navigate that campus." 

Gendry nodded and bit his lip. He wanted to push past small talk but didn't trust himself to say proper, human things. He hadn't felt this way in a while. He partially blamed the alcohol. 

The rest of the short ride was in relative silence. Arya stirred not long after their conversation had fizzled out in the front seats, and she kept rubbing her eyes and insisting they stop for post-jail pancakes. Sansa refused and took a turn down a small street and pulled into the driveway of a small, pink house. 

"Arya knows where the guest room is, if you two want to-"

"Ugh! Gross! I'm not fucking Gendry," Arya said. Gendry felt his face flush red. Sansa quickly turned off the car and pushed the door open. Gendry did not see how flushed her face had become at Arya's comment. 

"You two are so easy to scandalize," she said, pushing herself out the back door. Gendry followed suit, and soon the three had entered the small house. It smelled like lavender and cold metal pipes. 

"Lady," Sansa sang out softly. A large dog appeared from the hallway and padded up to her. The dog licked her owner's hand and looked over at the two guests curiously. 

"She's sweet, and doesn't bite," she said, worried that Gendry would be anxious. He smiled and reached out his hand to pet the dog. She licked his wrist. 

"Come," she said, motioning for them to follow her down the hall. Gendry pushed his hands into his pockets and took in the modest house. He had expected a more grandiose estate for the heiress of Stark Steel, but instead, she had a humble little cottage with tasteful decorating and cozy furniture. He liked that. 

Arya pushed past the two of them to the last room of the right. She kicked the door open and moments later Sansa and Gendry heard the  _whump!_ of a body falling onto a mattress. Sansa sighed and reached across Gendry to turn a knob, and pushed the door open. 

After he flicked on a light, he saw the small guest room that had been lovingly cleaned and organized, as if someone had come to take pictures for Pinterest. The design was simple- just a twin bed with crisp white sheets and a refurbished wood table, but it felt clean .       and nice. Like her. 

"Bathroom is," she pointed out the door and to the room next to his. "there. And if you need anything, feel free to follow my sister's example and barge in," she smiled, obviously meaning it as a joke. 

Gendry smiled back. 

"Everything is wonderful," he said. "Thank you for letting me stay the night,"

"Of course," she said. "Thank you for making sure my sister wasn't beaten to a bloody pulp. A night's stay on a small mattress hardly makes up for it," she laughed. 

Gendry felt a warmth spread from his chest. Something pushed him to say it. 

"Well, I'm sure we'll cross paths int he future- Arya doesn't seem bent on changing her ways."

"Hopefully no more police," Sansa said. 

"I dunno," Gendry shrugged. "We got to meet. I'd say that was worth going to jail for." 

The air around them electrified in the silence. Gendry could swear her felt little licks of shock crackle against his skin. Sansa smiled, almost said something, and then dropped her eyes to the floor, smiled again and letting out an exasperated laugh, unsure of what to say. 

"That's...I-" she looked up at him and gave a little helpless smile. "That's sweet. I'm sure you're also...arrest worthy." 

He smiled at her and they stood there for a beat, two smiling idiots holding awkward eye contact, formulating the best way to get this person closer to them. 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"...."

",...."

"Well,"

"Right,"

"Um,"

"If you need-"

"-just barge-"

"ha, yeah"

"I won't though. Quite rude,"

"Tell my sister that,"

"She'll kill me."

Sansa smiled in the doorway as he stood int he middle of the room. Again, they fell into a dopey, smiley silence that only feels comfortable within infatuation's folie a deux. 

"Well, Goodnight, Gendry," she said. "I suppose I'll be seeing you around more,"

"Yes," he said back. "Hopefully." 

She smiled. 

"Sleep well." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May continue in future chapters. Sorry for all the sporadic writing. Updates coming soon for all!


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